I was reminded today, or rather encouraged to reflect on what it means to be valued.
Not for what I can offer, or what I can do for someone, but for simply being who I am.
A friend recently told me she wanted me to be present back home in Indiana for her birthday. I was sharing this with another friend of mine and she invited me think about it like this: she wanted me there. Not because of what I could bring to the table, not because she needed me to organize or entertain or show up with the right words. She wanted me there because I’m me. Because my presence means something.
That stopped me for a second. Then continued to fill my mind in ways I suppose I haven’t thought a lot about. It’s so easy to get caught up in being useful. To try and define my worth by what I can contribute. Especially, lately, as my job search fills my days. Sometimes I’ve felt like I have to earn my place in people’s lives through effort, energy, or empathy. But in this moment, it reminded me that the people who truly care don’t love me for what I offer. They love me because of who I am when I’m just there.
No performance. No fixing. No proving. Just being.
There’s something healing about directing my thoughts to that. That I can show up as myself, messy, quiet, thoughtful, tired, curious. That’s still enough. Maybe that’s what real connection is, when presence alone has value.
I’m beginning to believe that I’m worth being around. Not in a self-centered, ego type of way. But in a way that combats the need to always be useful. Always be best at something.
I think somewhere along the way I convinced myself that love had to be earned. That being wanted was conditional. That if I wasn’t showing up doing something, making people laugh, offering advice, being the strong one, then maybe I wasn’t worth showing up for at all.
But that IS the lie I’ve been living under. Maybe people actually see me. The quiet parts. The in-between parts. The version of me that doesn’t always have the right words or the right energy. Maybe that version still matters.
It’s strange, isn’t it? That value doesn’t always come from motion. That stillness has worth too. Just existing, breathing, listening, sitting beside someone, can mean just as much, if not more, than all the noise we try to fill the space with.
I’ve spent so much of my life trying to earn my belonging. Trying to prove I deserve my seat at the table. But lately, I’m learning that some people just pull out a chair for you without asking anything in return. And that, that’s something sacred.
So I’ll continue practicing. Learning.
Letting myself take up space without guilt. Letting myself be seen without performing. Letting myself be enough, even in silence.
Because being valued doesn’t have to mean doing
It just means being, and being loved all the same.