It was my thirteenth year when I saw myself in the glimmer of a field of petals in whose splendor I shriveled. And the more reflections I walked past my deficiencies glared, willing me away, as a misfit and trespasser.
Like many thirteen-year-olds, I often paged through glossy magazines and therein found the verdict: you dear are the ugly duckling.
My broad nose, tightly curled locks, and pimply sun-blackened face were beneath the standard pointy-nosed, flowy-haired, flawless fair-skinned damsels whose necks stretched out elegantly and whose legs seemed to have no end. Yes, even the dark-like-me magazine variants simply surpassed me.
I came from a place where having food on the table was more urgent than lip-gloss, pretty headbands, daintily painted nails, darling outfits, and cute teen-girl panties. At school, the petals around me always glittered and left a trail of sweet scents with every step. Whereas I, having walked many steps in sweltering heat, arrived with only a sticky armpit stench to afflict the atmosphere.
Moreover, I was immersed in a culture where my witty, warm, radiant personality was obscured by its unfavorable and unimpressive packaging.
My innate craving for love demanded I should turn my wormy form into something resembling a butterfly. Perhaps even a moth would do! At first, with what I could, I concocted rouges and hair straighteners. But it was all in vain. Alas, there was no mending the horrid fate that was mine to bear as a hideous quack from whom eyes singed when gazed upon.
This was my lot, until I discovered that even the ugliest ducklings could be loved if they flaunted the one jewel gifted to every female… The rest of this here tale is a horrible history punctuated by rude misuse, heartbreak, shame, and unspeakable self-loathing that still causes me to cringe at its recollection. Too soon. Too shameful. Too sad. Perhaps a confession for another day.
It was in my twenty-second year, having stumbled and shattered in the maze of definitions of what constitutes a beautiful female that I was led to another field of even more beautiful flowers: I found myself at a women’s conference. For years I had avoided proximity with women, where my thorny self stuck out sorely, in favor of the company of boys and men – who sprinkled rotten crumbs of “love” at me.
Standing awkwardly in the foyer of the conference hall, I feared this was the end of me. I couldn’t take any more mocking that blatantly exposed what I could never have or be!
Yet something quite unexpected transpired. Over the three days at the conference, this thorn sprouted a rosebud!
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praise
When I considered the voices and sights that so long dictated who I should be and what it meant to be a woman, beautiful and lovable, I could not shake the tune I’d heard from The Great Gatsby film: will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?
Indeed, the boys and men I pursued and everything around me taunted how dispensable I was, easily replaceable for younger, newer, and more beautiful models. But alas I also learned that these more beautiful ones also suffered this despair as the insatiable eye of lust could not linger upon them either for much too long – after all, there is always another newer, younger, and more beautiful one!
I admit my aging body and soul simply could not keep up with chasing the mirage of being the sexiest or most beautiful one to deserve validation of being acceptable and loved. And honestly, I was weary of chasing love; at my core, I felt I was not made to pursue but to be pursued.
I desperately hoped that there had to be more to who a woman is than only her looks and devalued pearls and with this hope, I began to see my error had been to revere the opinions of man, who looks only to fickle outward appearances.
Hollow man lusts for first impressions and appearances. If we are honest, we have this annoying tendency to gravitate to superficialities. Glitter and sparkles captivate our eyes and if we are not wise, as we often are not, we become hypnotized and lured only to find out (sometimes way too late) that indeed all that glitters is not gold.
When we look for worthy friends and covenant partners, rarely do we pause to investigate what and who really is behind the many acts we have learned so well to perform for appraisal. Moreover, concerned with playing our parts to perfection, we give no thought to uncovering the beings beyond the masks, scripts, and theatrics presented to us at every turn.
Alas, more tragic is when we have so long acted that we can no longer distinguish who we are from the many faces, and characters that are now all too agonizingly familiar.
For the longest time, I was proud of my chameleon ability that enabled me shapeshift and fit into people’s fickle graces through flattery, fawning, and self-debasement. The more I practiced this witchcraft, the more I lost the essence of my consecration. Eventually, I was on the brink of multiple personality madness brought about by the complete disintegration of my unique personage.
Most of my life is grotesquely marred with gashes of feeling worthless and being envious towards those whose worth I deemed more than my own. I shudder to consider where I would be now had Grace passed me by and I not invoked the courage to reach for His salvation.
At a point where I was utterly confounded by myself – that strangely foreign personality prone to letting all hell loose within me, and the desperately oppressed divinity, also within me – the one who searches the deep things of the heart, he who formed me and cherishes the witty, warm radiant personality I was beguiled to bury in a stained masquerade found me and invited me to discover that I have always been his delicate beloved rose petal.
Not only I, but us all.
We are born into a place that bewitches us to forget that we are each cherished children of God. Therefore, we stagger through life with corrupted perspectives and perceptions of who we are or supposed to be, and constantly covetously compare ourselves against our brothers and sisters, blinded to the fact that we are all uniquely, divinely, and wholly formed for equally unique and divine expressions of the glory of our Father.
Abba, the great I AM, is patient and kind and holy therefore he will never force any of his children to come to their senses and turn from the deceptions that lead to separation, temptation, and ultimately destruction. But he does extend an invitation to whosoever would take courage and believe who he is and what he says of us, all his special possessions.
Even though parents deliver us into the world, they are mortal and imperfect vessels as all humanity is; therefore it is a great deception to seek a definition of who we are from other humans who are just like us, instead of going to our Maker. As simple as it is to see how foolish this is, unfortunately, we are duped at every turn to fall into this error and spiral into the terrible holes of identity crises we suffer, needlessly.
Since birth, so many stimuli aimed, and for a time succeeded, to convince me that I was less than, worthless, and a thorn among resplendence. Cunningly curated media targeted my impressionable mind to believe that a perfectly staged, airbrushed photoshoot or a larger-than-life bank balance is the measure of the value of a person.
I have been awakened to see that turning away from these hypnoses is no light work.
Yet if I should become the rose I now believe I have always been, I must muster every courage ration within me and daily move towards what is true, which may only be found with my Maker, our Father, and God.
Only then will I witness the full glory of transformation into a luscious rose bush.
If like me you find yourself perplexed and lost in the mazes and loops of discovering who you are and why you are here, and should you need some help navigating these challenges, consider tracing back to the beginning, where God created a good wonder-filled home and brought us to live in it, enjoying the overflow of goodness. Then consider that perhaps all you’ve ever heard, known, or believed against his goodness, love, and mercy are cunning lies warped with precision, and aimed to steal, kill, and destroy your experiencing the abundance and joy of life in this realm.
Finally, activate the courage within you to believe God instead of believing lies and pursue with all your mind, will, emotions, time, and strength, little by little or voraciously to know the truth, his heart, and will toward us, humanity – His image bearers:
For goodness, for prosperity, for wholeness, for hope, and a future.
Then you may find that I AM loves you as He loves Himself, and see that you are loved as fearfully and wonderfully made as He created you.
xoxo
Nimi
Kingdom Purposed Daughter 
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