Is There Still a Place for Me?
Sometimes I wonder if there’s really space for me anywhere. Not just a seat at the table, not just an invitation to join in, but a real place where I can belong, where I don’t feel like I have to shrink parts of myself or keep my guard up all the time. Also, a place where my tears are welcome, where my frustration will not be "spiritually" interpreted as demonic or a spiritual attack.
It’s strange because people do invite me in. Opportunities open up. I get welcomed into rooms, trusted with responsibilities, and even embraced in ways I don’t always expect. Girl, my whole "You I can hug but you I can't" dilemma is a thing. But then this fear creeps in, What if I’m misunderstood or pitied? What if no one will ever trust me with much again? What if they see me as weak, or unworthy, or not as strong in faith and character as they assume I am?
So I keep things to myself. I’ve done this for so long that it almost feels natural now. I tell different people different pieces of my story, never the whole picture. It’s safer that way. Even my mentor, someone who honestly seems to want to embrace and know me more, I keep at a 1,000 m length under the excuse of “wanting to stay professional.”
But deep down, I know the truth: I’m scared. Scared to be vulnerable. Scared to be transparent. Scared to trust too much and end up exposed, rejected, or disappointed.
And because of that, I question everything. I question people’s intentions. I question myself. And if I’m honest, I even question God.
Is there really a place for me, with all my doubts, my inconsistencies, and my fears?
I know what the Bible says. I know God promises to be near to the brokenhearted. I know Jesus never turned away the ones who came to Him bruised, messy, or afraid. But sometimes my heart lags behind what my head knows. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know how to show up honestly before God, let alone before people.
Maybe that’s why this question cuts so deep: Is there still a place for me?
DISCLAIMER: I don’t have a neat answer yet. Maybe the only thing I can hold onto right now is this: with God, I don’t have to pretend. He already sees everything I’m too afraid to say out loud, and still, He doesn’t push me away. If there is any place where I truly belong, it’s in Him first....while I figure things out.
Maybe from there, little by little, I can learn to risk being seen elsewhere too.