Raspberry Iced M

Like most people, I wear many hats.

I am different things to different people.

A wife.
A mom.
A paralegal.
A daughter.

For other people, I’m someone worse.

The root of their trauma.
Someone to discuss at the next coffee klatch.
A deceiver.
The cause of so much hurt.

Those roles matter. They shape my days and carry responsibilities. They require things of me. Even the negative parts I’ve played in other people’s lives have weight, prompting me to work against my own decisions to prove myself “worthy.”

But lately I’ve wondered who I am when all the hats come off.

I have always measured myself by how well I performed my roles. Was I useful enough? Needed enough? Successful enough? Defensive enough? Good enough for people connected to me?

And circling that drain seems productive on paper, but slowly, over the last 20 years, I have become so disconnected from myself.

Roles are what I do. They are not always who I am.

There are not many moments when no one is asking anything from me. Big asks, like shrinking myself to suit someone else’s agenda. And little asks, like managing a schedule, or attending an event, or folding laundry.

But in those few-and-far-between moments when no one is asking anything from me – no tasks or titles or immediate responsibilities – I have had to ask myself, “Who is still here?”

Who remains when I am not producing, helping, fixing, managing or proving?

Underneath the hats, I am someone who feels deeply. Someone who notices things. Someone who reflects privately.

I’ve become someone who values truth over comfort – which is a change from a former version of me.

I’m someone who has made many mistakes but is still willing to grow. Someone who values quiet. And peace. Not chaos anymore. Someone who still hopes, even after disappointment. Someone who is softer than she looks and stronger than she once knew.

I don’t know what unconditional love looks like, and I’ve always “proven” love in the work I’ve done.

But I am not just what I provide. I am not only valuable when I’m useful. I’m not only worthy when I am needed. I’m not only lovable when I am performing well.

My worth doesn’t begin and end with what I can do for others.

I do not have myself figured out in full. And I don’t think we ever reach the finish line of that journey. We are all made up of parts. Of different seasons in our lives. And since the present eventually becomes the past, and the past becomes part of who we are – eventually – what I do now will become part of my story.

I am still learning what matters to me. I am still unlearning destructive patterns. I am still growing into integrity.

At my core, I am not willing to accept that my mistakes have become the finish line for growth. I am willing to do the work, willing to tell the truth, and will to become different…

…and I have to pray that counts for something.

No title fully captures my private resilience, the battles I’ve fought internally (even if I have lost those battles), the compassion and empathy I carry (a side effect of my mistakes), the grief I’ve survived, the discipline I’m building, and the faith that continues to transform me.

Those things don’t always show up on paper. But they’re real.

I fill a role in several people’s lives. And I’ll keep filling those roles. I’ll keep showing up in the hats that my decisions and my life and my family ask of me.

But when those hats come off, I’m still here. A whole person. Still growing. Still valuable. Still becoming.

And that person matters, too.