Recently, I’ve had several people approach me about my blog. They’ve told me what my story and vulnerability means to them. They’ve even shared their own personal stories.

It made me realize what a fraud I am. How could these women be so vulnerable with me and yet, I can’t be fully honest?

I’ve never told anyone this before but every few years, I write a letter to my husband. I write about my hopes, my dreams, my fears. I’ve been writing these letters since I was 13, hoping to give them to him on our wedding day.

I am a hopeless romantic.

I am also disabled.

When we women get together to talk about being disabled, we talk about having to be more than everyone else in order to have a seat at the table.

We rarely feel like we are enough.

I like a guy. I didn’t want to say that. I honestly haven’t said I like someone since Alex. If I thought there was a chance he would read this, I might not write it. And even if he does, he will either not realize it’s him I’m talking about or he won’t care.

Because he doesn’t like me back.

The first time someone told me that God chose me before I was born, I cried. I had never been chosen by anyone before. I have played second fiddle to someone my whole life. I am constantly trying to earn people’s love.

One such situation played out recently where a friend came to visit and didn’t spend time with me. And I tried to be understanding but my heart broke.

I have been a shell of a woman. Insecure, desperate, sad. I’m tired of it. Something in me needs to change.

I saw that guy today and all I wanted to say was I’m sorry I like you. I’m sorry I’m not very pretty or funny. I’m sorry I’m too quiet and not very outgoing. I’m sorry that I am a broken, sinful human being.

But most of all, I’m sorry you can’t see how wonderful I am. I’m sorry you can’t see how strong I am or how my heart cries for the people I can’t help. I’m sorry you don’t get that I have to remember everyone’s birthday because nobody remembered mine. I’m sorry you don’t like the green in my eyes or my big smile. I’m sorry I am not enough.

Ladies, you matter. You are enough for the One who matters most.


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