Growing older feels like carrying a suitcase filled with memories, expectations, and unspoken emotions. Some days, you want to take the world by storm—change something, build something, become someone. Other days, you just want to disappear beneath the covers, close your eyes, and let the world pass you by.
Lately, sadness has been an unwelcome companion. Maybe it’s just my hormones playing tricks on me—like clockwork, my heart grows heavy, and I find myself drowning in unexplainable melancholy. Then, as if on cue, my monthly visitor arrives, and suddenly, I remember: Oh, that’s why. A week later, the sadness fades, and I feel like myself again.
It’s strange, this cycle of emotions—how fleeting they are, how easily they deceive. And yet, through it all, I’m reminded that my feelings, though real, should never be the compass of my life. We aren’t meant to be led by passing emotions but by the steady, unshaken voice of the Holy Spirit. Still, that doesn’t mean we should numb ourselves, pretending to be unbreakable. It’s okay to be human. It’s okay to feel—but don’t let those feelings take root where truth should dwell.
The Weight of Expectations
When I was younger, birthdays were filled with excitement—counting down the days, celebrating milestones, dreaming of the future. I remember turning twenty-two, feeling like the world was opening up before me. But now? Birthdays feel different. They arrive with quiet whispers of uncertainty and a flood of questions like:
"Why are you still single?"
"When will you settle down?"
"What about kids?"
"What's wrong with you?"
At first, I laugh it off. Then, it becomes exhausting. Maybe it is me. Maybe I should try harder. Maybe I should lower my standards, say yes more often, and accept the little efforts instead of waiting for a godly man who will truly pursue me. Am I being too picky? Or am I just that bad or really unattractive? Perhaps there's no one for me, so I should accept it earlier. Perhaps, it's because of me.
And though I know deep down that these thoughts aren’t true, when people keep saying them, their voices start to echo inside my mind. Suddenly, I feel unloved, unwanted, unseen. So, I do what I know best—I try to be strong, independent, and capable of handling everything on my own. I push myself to learn anything, to never ask for help. Because if I can do it all alone, then maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to feel like I’m missing something.
Who’s with me? It’s frustrating when these thoughts creep in.
Breaking the Script
It’s as if being a woman means you’re expected to follow a script—married in your twenties, a mother in your thirties, and if you’re single? Well, then, you should at least have a thriving career to make up for it. But what if your life doesn’t fit into these timelines? What if your path looks different? Does that make you any less worthy?
As women of faith, we grow up with these images in our minds—
The Proverbs 31 woman, perfectly woven into every sermon.
The bravery of Esther, the faithfulness of Mary, the wisdom of Deborah.
We see them as checklists, as standards to live up to.
But somewhere along the way, we start to wonder—what happens when we don’t feel as noble, as fearless, as graceful? What happens when we feel unseen, rejected, or not enough?
Here’s a truth that takes years to fully grasp:
We are not enough—but we are deeply loved because of Christ.
Our worth is not found in society’s expectations.
Not in marriage.
Not in motherhood.
Not in a successful career.
Our worth is found in Christ alone.
"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." — Romans 5:8
"I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness." — Jeremiah 31:3
So whether single or married, with children or without, thriving or still figuring things out—
you are still seen.
Still loved.
Still whole.
Not because of who you are, but because of who He is.
And that? That is more than enough. Christ is enough.
