Learning to Love Yourself Without Earning It

I’ve been sober for a while now. Long enough to have experienced real transformation. Long enough to know a few Scriptures, to help others, and to say with confidence that God has changed my life.

But if I’m being honest, there are still days, like today, when I feel like I haven’t earned my place in His presence.

Some mornings I wake up feeling whole and I pray with confidence. I stand tall in the truth that I am loved. Other mornings, I feel like I’m holding my breath, waiting for the shame to find its way back in. And often, it does.

It’s confusing, isn't it? To know the truth and still feel like an absolute fraud. To have come this far in recovery and still wrestle with the old belief that I have to earn God’s love. Why is it that even after all this time, I still sometimes feel like I have to perform for approval?

I ask myself things like:

• Why does the voice of shame still echo so loudly some days?

• How can I know I’m forgiven and still feel like I need to prove I’m worthy?

• Why is it so hard to accept grace without strings attached?

  
  

Sometimes I wonder if God is tired of hearing me confess the same fears or sees someone who should’ve “figured it out by now”. And then something like this morning happens, and it stops me in my tracks.

I had the privilege of sitting with a young woman who’s about eight months into her sobriety. As she opened up about her past, tears welled up in her eyes. She told me all she ever really wanted, even in the darkest moments of her addiction, was just to be loved. It nearly broke me. I could see and feel the ache in her words, and I related more than I expected. Honestly, I felt physically sick.

And without planning to, I opened my mouth and said the words I know deep down but sometimes forget myself: “No matter what you’ve done, you’re still loved so very much by God.”

As soon as the words came out, something in me shifted. It was like a light bulb went off over my head, a virtual “ah ha” moment. I didn’t just say it to her. I heard myself saying it to the unworthy, shameful little girl inside me again. And it landed.

Then I remembered what Scripture actually says. Not what shame or the enemy tries to whisper, but the truth: “God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

That means before I did a single thing right, before I had a day of sobriety, or even thought about changing, He loved me. ME. Fully. Unconditionally. Mind blown!

But here’s the hard part. Learning to love myself with that same kind of love still doesn’t come naturally. I know I don’t have to earn it, but I still try. I can find myself looking back on the day and tallying up the ways I fell short. I measure my worth by how productive I’ve been, how kind I’ve felt, or whether I managed to keep my emotions in check like someone “in recovery” is supposed to.  It’s hard to give yourself grace when shame has been your inner voice for most of your life.

But I’ve learned something else too. God doesn’t ask me to come polished. He just asks me to come.

So when I find myself stuck in that place where the lies are louder than the truth, I do something simple. I show up. I talk to Him and tell Him I’m struggling to feel worthy of approaching Him. I ask Him to meet me in my insecurity. And every time, He does. (After I’ve usually distanced myself into a bit of misery first... you know, free will and all.)

Maybe you’re in that space too. Maybe you’ve come so far, and still feel stuck in that loop of trying to earn your place. I want you to know you’re not alone. This is a process and there’s no shame in needing to hear the truth again.

You are loved right now. Not once you’ve “healed more”, “figured everything out” or “feel better”. But right now. As you are.

If this speaks to where you are today, I’d love for you to subscribe. I’ll keep walking this journey alongside you. You don’t have to carry this alone.

Until next time… keep showing up. That’s enough.

Andrea

Next up in the series: “What to Do When Your Progress Feels Invisible