No Girls Allowed
I spent way too much of my childhood attempting (and failing) to get into the No Girls Allowed Club. I have three brothers (all of whom I love dearly now) who reveled in making me feel left out. Of course now I can realize the absurdity and futility of trying to get into a club named for excluding girls but at the time, fitting in—a.k.a. being a member of the coveted No Girls Allowed Club—was the only thing I cared about.
I’m fairly sure that the No Girls Allowed Club only existed to torture me. I don’t think they ever had meetings or activities other than creating impossible tasks for me to attempt in order to gain access to this club. I rode skateboards down our steep driveway, climbed to the top of the big tree in the backyard, and snuck food from the pantry to serve as snacks for the next meeting.
No matter how many challenges I courageously faced and mastered, there was always another one waiting for me at the end. Regardless of what I accomplished, the truth was (even though I didn’t realize it at the time), I would never be admitted to the No Girls Allowed Club for one simple reason: I was a girl.
Thus began the belief that I’m not good enough as I am. From a young age, I wanted to perform a certain way to be accepted by my siblings. I believed that if I proved my bravery through countless un-girlie tasks, I would receive their love and approval. This belief grew with me, all the way into adulthood.
For so many years of my adult life, I found my worth in what I did. If I accomplished enough things on my to-do list, I felt good about myself. If the to-do list grew longer than I could possibly manage, I felt like a failure. If my kids ate well-balanced meals, got to all of their activities on time, and behaved like angels, I ended the day knowing that I was doing it all right. If I fed my kids chicken nuggets for the third day in a row and yelled at them while they refused to put shoes on, making us late for sports practice (again), I ended the day convinced my worth was zero. Then one day, God spoke to me through a friend.
A loving woman who knew of my struggles spoke with me often about my goal of holiness. She asked me once, “Maria, do you know that you have worth even if you don’t do anything?”
Record scratch. Glass shattering. Mind blown.
I looked back at her and couldn’t find words. I would easily be able to tell another child of God that truth, but if I was being honest, I didn’t believe it about myself. I didn’t know how to love myself and recognize my worth if there wasn’t a tangible outcome to measure. Thus began my journey toward learning to love myself and to see myself as God sees me.
It took years, lots of prayer, many setbacks, and I’m not always 100% at practicing this, but I have learned to see myself through God’s eyes as a woman born with dignity and value, even if I sit on the couch all day and the laundry remains unsorted and the kids eat chicken nuggets. My worth is not linked to a checklist anymore. When I waste the day away watching Netflix or scrolling social media, I may not be living to my fullest potential. Yet this doesn’t mean that my worth is zero.
The other day, my extremely bright, almost-teenaged daughter proudly reported to me that she got (another) 100 on a quiz in school. I smiled back at her and offered congratulations. On the heels of that, I told her, “You know, if you got a 70, you would still have worth and I would still love you. Even if you got a 30, I might think you’re not trying your best or you might have to start tutoring, but you would still have worth and I would still love you.”
To which she (naturally) groaned, rolled her almost-teenaged eyes and said, “I know, Mom. You tell me that all the time.” I smiled to myself and prayed that this lesson would sink in. I wish everyone knew their true worth. God, the good and loving creator of all things, created you, and that alone makes you an amazing, wonderful and perfect being. I don’t know who needs to hear that this week. I hope you can help me pass this message along. After all, the person who might need to hear it most from you is you.
Copyright 2023 Maria Riley
Image: Canva
Never miss a blog! Sign up to get them delivered to your inbox weekly HERE.
