…For you are a chosen people. You are royal priests,
a holy nation, God’s very own possession… for He called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.
- 1 Peter 2:9 NLT
At the age of 11, in secondary school and amongst my friends, I compared myself to them, searched in others, what I longed would be a part of me, wondering why I wasn't as bold, as beautiful or as smart. Why I wasn't chosen amongst the rest. Why the name I was born with wasn’t more unique or African enough and eventually I began to pick at my weight when statements hurled at me asking if I ate and why my legs were so small.
Other words soon came after about my face, my lips, matching me up to a horse, how unwanted I was, and would never be the first choice in a relationship. These words, these insults, became my truth. I drenched myself in it, when I woke up, before I left my house, mentally beating myself up, telling myself that no one wanted to hear what I wanted to say or know how I was feeling. And at home, I couldn’t speak about these things either, so they became bottled up and bubbled inside of me. So I became quieter and quieter till I became mute. Entering a stage of my life that I didn’t know was symptomatic of an identity crisis, depression, anxiety, and skinny shaming.
Before attending a university that was my second choice, I watched a YouTube video of a girl who spoke about her experiences and finished it with two questions to think about: I either use these next three years to develop a true relationship with God or I use them to experiment and see what happens.
From that moment, I chose the first option, I met my sister-friend whose relationship with Jesus, I wanted to know more about. Together we went church-hopping and after a short while, I found myself becoming invested in the church, a term I didn't know was possible and thought it was only for the elite. I didn’t know how good it would feel releasing it all and lifting my hands up in worship, as I always thought it was weird and was skeptical of what people would think.
Looking back over my life, God placed specific people in my life to nudge me on the right path and with their help, I experienced Godly encounters and what I like to call inklings from the Holy Spirit myself. He told me that being soft-spoken, sassy, cute and multi-talented wasn't a bad thing. In fact, that was exactly how He wanted to create me because why would He create me to be like anyone else?
I wrote my first blog post, “You Are Not A Nobody” as a self-reaffirmation of who I was. As a voice from God, softly reminding me that after all those years, I am still not a nobody. Following on from then, in my quiet time as I prayed for my blog and the words He placed on my heart, I felt Him give me the name for my blog; Monharriee: A Crowned Soul, which means, My Harriee, My Love, My child.
Now I'm 22, a writer from His heart on all things identity because I can see how He has shaped me and reminded me of my truth in Him through people reflecting His love and kindness. I have come to accept that I am an encourager, a designer, and lover of all things art.
It's funny to think that the truth, the truth of who I am, has been in front of me the whole time.
And now I have learnt to say: I am not a nobody. I am God's somebody. He loves all of me and that's more than enough.
Love, A Crowned Soul
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