You Are

You are ungrateful. You are stupid. You are ignorant. You are a b*tch. You are a sl*t. You are greedy. You are unloved. You are alone. You are selfish. You are fat. You are disgusting. You are a pig. You are worthless. And yet, you are not. 

Words engraved in my mind for as long as I can remember. Some were told by close family members and others by “friends”. It seems that all my life I have been told what I am. The desperation of wanting to feel affirmed and validated led to the acceptance and agreement of those words. The anguish of wanting to be seen and unconditionally loved led to the tolerance of receiving those words.

When you grow up with an inconsistent father who was absent for most of your life and a mother who had you at a young age while carrying a bag of trauma, I suppose you would let those words define you. When I was 5 I remember being obsessed with the Disney movie Cinderella. I could relate to the absence of both parental figures and hopelessly wanting to fall in love to be saved and taken to live happily ever after. That innocence and naivety quickly faded, however. 

I am originally from the Bay Area, California. I grew up with a single mom. She had me at the age of 19, a year after her father passed. My dad was physically abusive even while she was pregnant with me. Fast forward a couple of years later, I witnessed for the first time my mom being physically abused. Starting from there, I was also abused physically, mentally, and emotionally. That became my normal. I had to grow up fast, leading me to become a parent and not a daughter—a parent to my mom and a parent to my youngest sister. At a very young age, I looked at the world differently. That season of my life was taken from me. 

I am the oldest of five half-siblings and the first in my family to graduate high school and recently, college. To be the eldest and first in my family for a lot of things has been a blessing and an honor. But to be the eldest meant to be given unwanted responsibilities and a suitcase of burdens from your family to be carried on your shoulders. It also meant to sacrifice and to pave the way for people. I had to blaze my trail. I had to lead without knowing and lean on my own understanding. There was no one around to help or teach me how to “do life”. In moments where I found myself wishing for an older sister or a parental figure who knew how to parent, it made me feel isolated, and the question of “Why me?” would constantly haunt me. 

I was very active and involved in school. I was a part of clubs, and different sports, and occasionally stayed for tutoring even if I did not need it. It was my escape from home. I thought that being at school meant blocking out what I was enduring. It was draining. If someone were to ask me what is the worst obstacle I had to face growing up, my answer would be verbal abuse. It is the one form of trauma that is constantly manifesting in my day-to-day life.

I find myself critiquing everything I do. I find myself longing to be that girl. I find myself comparing who I am to other women I hold in high regard. I find myself hating every feature of my body. I find myself replaying the words that were said to me since I was young. I now know how much power the tongue holds when we speak about others. We can either build them up or tear them down. And for some reason, it seems that building people up, especially in girl world, takes the most effort.

Worth. This simple five-letter word has been one of my greatest enemies. The journey to accepting that I am worthy has been a ceaseless battle internally. To believe I am worthy meant to accept that I am wanted, loved, and  embraced. But how could that be true when my parents had neglected me? How could that be true when people continuously walked out of my life, never wanting to stay?

The confidence, fierceness, and being strong was the mask made for Nayeli. Nayeli didn’t have time to be sad because she had food, a roof over her head, and clothes. She was blessed. Nayeli had to hold it together because if she fell, then everyone would. The glue to everything had to be strong. 

What a lie. 

To say that Jesus saved my life is an understatement. He brought me back to life. Gave me a new identity. One found in Him and one I proudly wear. When He met me in my brokenness, in my nakedness, in my desperation, He broke down every lie I was ever told about myself.

Years of persistent disillusion were spent on the deception that no one could absolutely love me enough to see me as worthy. But the truth was that the love I was in search of was there all along. From the moment I was in my mother’s womb to the day I will take my last breath. Why was it hard to comprehend that there was a God who is the creator of all things, heaven, and earth, who loves me with such passion and intensity? This question marked the start of discovering my worth based on what the Lord had to say. 

If women began to learn, see, and accept how worthy they are, especially in the eyes of the Lord, then the enemy would not have a foothold on their identity. The idea of this makes him tremble because if we realized our identity, worth, and authority, it would empower us to help others be set free. I have recently met women that are older whom still struggle with the truth that they are worthy. Women of all ages are being attacked over their worth. I can not emphasize enough that it is important to not only acknowledge but declare what the word says, even if you do not believe it yet. Because in seconds of agreeing with a lie can destroy maybe years of built confidence in the Lord. 

God says I am created in his own image (Gen 1:27). I was made on purpose (Psalm 139:16). I am seen (Matt 10:29-31). I have been redeemed (Isaiah 43:1). I am constantly being pursued (Romans 8:38-39). God knows every strand of hair on my head (Matt 10:26-31). He knows when I wake and when I sleep (Psalm 139:1-6). God says I am not alone (Isaiah 41:10). He sent His only son to die on a cross and this is the greatest expression of love ever made to man. For this reason, I am worthy of being loved (Romans 5:8). 

This is all true and it will always be the foundation we need to stand on. Because I learned that if we let people, people that are also broken, hurt, and lost, speak out who we are then we can never come into alignment with how God sees us or even have the capacity to accept what true love is, God. 

This past month I have been contending with the idea of worth. I have been grappling with finding my identity. To break off and rebuke lies that have been spoken over me has been a painful, hard, and long process but one that I have been invited to by the Lord in order to heal. It is not facile but wrestling with the Lord so that I may be free from captivity of those lies is worth it. I am learning to let His voice be the only thing that speaks over me. 

If you are reading this and you relate to some degree with my story I have been praying over you. Praying that you will begin to step in boldness and dare to speak against those lies you have been agreeing and accepting. Praying that you get up daughter of the King of Kings and stand your ground. Praying that you accept the invitation God is giving you to go back to the moment where the root of the misplacement of your worth and identity began. Our God is a good father. If He could do it for me considering my past, He can indubitably do the same for you. And daughter, if you allow Him, He will restore, redeem, and bring truth to who you are in Him. 

And the truth is you are gracious. You are smart. You are wise. You are kind. You are washed and cleaned. You are generous. You are loved. You are surrounded. You are selfless. You are beautiful. You are delightful. You are inspiring. YOU ARE WORTHY and more.