Dear Little Girl...You Don't Have to Be Needed to Be Safe

Dear Little Girl,

You learned early that being useful made you lovable.

That if you were helping, fixing, teaching, managing, or holding everything together — you were safe. You were seen. You were wanted.

So of course stillness feels strange now.
So of course rest feels heavy.
So of course your body collapses when there is nothing on the schedule.

It’s not laziness.
It’s not lack of discipline.
It’s not weakness.

It’s a nervous system that spent years being responsible.

Somewhere along the way, you learned that love followed effort.
That belonging came from producing.
That safety meant staying needed.

And now God is gently teaching you something new:

That you are allowed to be still and still be loved.
That you are allowed to rest and still be safe.
That you are allowed to do nothing and still be worthy.

What if your body doesn’t shut down because you’re broken…
but because it’s finally not being asked to save anyone?

What if stillness feels unsafe not because it is —
but because it’s unfamiliar?

What if Eve didn’t rebel…
what if she was just exhausted from being responsible?

What if the deepest healing isn’t learning how to do more —
but learning how to stay when you’re no longer needed?

Not disappearing.
Not rescuing.
Not proving.

Just staying.

Staying with yourself.
Staying with God.
Staying in a body that is learning a new truth:

That love does not require performance.
That rest is not abandonment.
That you don’t have to earn your place here.

Little girl,
you don’t have to be useful to be safe anymore.

You already are.

Love,

Worthy
(Amy 🤍)

Dear Little Girl...You Can Trust God With the Ones You Love

Dear Little Girl,

There are days when your heart feels stretched so thin, you wonder if it might break. Days when the people you love most seem just out of reach. Days when you show up with open arms and walk away with a heavy heart.

Today is one of those days.

But hear me: you are not alone.

As a parent, as a friend, as a human who loves deeply — there will be moments when you want to hold on tighter, fix it all, make it all feel right again. And yet, sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is open your hands and surrender.

Because love, real love, isn't about control.

It's about trust.

Not trust in people, who are as fragile and flawed as you are. But trust in the One who sees the whole story. The One who has loved them longer than you have. The One who has never left, even when hearts wandered far.

Today you prayed for peace. You prayed for connection. You prayed for soft landings and safe returns.

And here's the truth: God heard you.

Even when it feels like your prayers are carried away on the wind, they land in the very heart of God. Your tears are not unnoticed. Your hope is not wasted. Your love is never unseen.

It's okay to grieve what feels lost. It's okay to feel sad for what you wish could be different. It's okay to acknowledge the ache.

But don't let it close your heart. Don't let it steal your tenderness. Don't let it silence your prayers.

Keep loving. Keep trusting. Keep hoping.

Even when it feels messy. Especially when it feels messy.

Because God specializes in resurrection. In empty tombs. In stories that feel broken beyond repair.

You are doing better than you think. Your love matters more than you know. And one day, you will look back and see — He was holding it all the entire time.

A Question to Reflect On: Where in your life is God asking you to loosen your grip and trust Him more?

A Prayer for the Surrendered Heart

Dear God,
Today I lay down my need to control. I surrender the ones I love into Your capable hands. I trust that You see what I cannot, and You are working even when I cannot feel it.

Give me peace where there is fear.
Give me hope where there is sadness.
Give me faith where there is doubt.

Help me to love with open hands and open heart, just as You love me.

In Jesus' Name, Amen.

With hope,
Worthy

Dear Little Girl...You Are Not Required to Hustle to Be Safe

There is a lie so many women are living under, and it’s rarely spoken out loud.

The lie says:
If you slow down, something bad will happen.
If you rest, you’ll lose momentum.
If you cancel, you’ll be punished.
If you stop producing, you’ll stop being worthy.

I know this lie well—because I’ve lived by it.

I’ve hustled not because I love the grind, but because fear told me I had to.
Fear of not enough money.
Fear of being abandoned again.
Fear that if I don’t keep proving my value, everything I’ve built could disappear.

And the truth?
That fear has been quietly killing my nervous system.

When Hustle Becomes a Trauma Response

We don’t talk enough about how hustle can be rooted in trauma.

For many women, especially those who have lived through instability, betrayal, financial fear, or abandonment, pushing through becomes a form of control.

If I keep working, I’ll be okay.
If I keep showing up, I won’t be left.
If I keep producing, I won’t be forgotten.

But here’s what I’m learning the hard way:

What once protected me is now hurting me.

My body has started speaking louder than my mind.
My sleep has been disrupted.
My nervous system has been overloaded.
Even the data—my Oura ring—finally said what my soul already knew:

“Your body is under major stress.”

And still… I argued with myself.

“I could probably still do it.”
“It’s $125.”
“I don’t want to let anyone down.”
“What if my business suffers?”

But the deeper question whispered underneath all of that was this:

At what cost?

The Day I Canceled—and Didn’t Collapse

I canceled a session recently because I simply wasn’t up for it.

And instead of relief, guilt rushed in.

That guilt wasn’t about the client.
It was about an old belief that says rest is dangerous.

That if I pause, I’ll lose something.
That if I choose myself, I’ll be punished.
That if I don’t push through, I’ll pay for it later.

But here’s what didn’t happen:

My business didn’t fall apart.
God didn’t withdraw His provision.
The ground didn’t open up beneath me.

What did happen?

I listened to my body.
I honored my healing.
I showed up for myself.

And for the first time, I saw clearly:

Pushing through has been punishing me.

Hustle Is Not the Same as Faithfulness

Somewhere along the way, many of us confused exhaustion with obedience.

We thought:
Being tired meant we were doing enough.
Being depleted meant we were faithful.
Being constantly “on” meant we were responsible.

But rest is not rebellion.
Healing is not laziness.
Listening to your body is not a lack of discipline.

You are not more worthy when you are worn down.
You are not safer when you are exhausted.
And you are not more lovable when you ignore your limits.

God has never asked us to destroy ourselves to prove our trust.

Dear Little Girl…
You are allowed to rest without everything falling apart.

You are allowed to cancel without being punished.
You are allowed to heal without hustling.
You are allowed to trust that provision doesn’t disappear when you pause.

Money is not your protector.
Productivity is not your savior.
And fear is a terrible boss.

You were never meant to carry your life by yourself.

What is meant for you will not be taken because you chose rest.
What is built with God will not collapse because you listened to your body.
What is sustainable will still be there when you come back.

This season isn’t about doing less forever.
It’s about learning that you don’t have to suffer to be safe.

And maybe—just maybe—
when enough women stop hustling for worth,
our bodies will heal,
our homes will breathe again,
and our kiddos will learn a different way.

One where rest is holy.
Trust is practiced.
And love is not earned through exhaustion.