My daughter had just fallen asleep after another long day of fighting off what felt like her hundredth daycare sickness. The dishes were still sitting in the dishwasher, boxes from our recent move were stacked in the corner of the living room, and my laptop sat open on the table with an unfinished assignment for my master’s program staring back at me.

There were days I was holding my sick baby in one arm while answering work emails with the other. Nights when I waited for her to fall asleep so I could open my laptop and study for my master’s. Weekends spent moving boxes and trying to turn an apartment into a home. It has been exhausting in ways that most people don’t really see.For the first time that day, I sat down. And for the first time in weeks, I had a moment to think.

Sitting here now, I think about the years when I constantly felt the need to prove myself, no matter what was going on in my life. I learned to fake it until I made it — sometimes to the extreme — just to fit in during my younger years, especially in high school and college. I spent years feeling like I wasn’t enough. School, success, achievements, travel — all things I tried to build my identity around, hoping they would finally make me feel secure. But in the end, they never did. Looking back, I would say I struggled with imposter syndrome for most of my life. The interesting part is that I didn’t even realize it until about a year ago — the same time I found myself deep in the trenches and the same time I truly found God.

I say all this to pivot to the truth of where life is right now: it ain’t easy. Life is heavy — single motherhood, a sick baby, work, a master’s program — but something is different this time. I don’t feel the need to prove my worth to anyone anymore. I’m not chasing attention like I once did. I’m simply living, learning from my mistakes, overcoming the shame of my past, and raising a beautiful little girl in a peaceful and loving environment. Somewhere along the way, my identity stopped being built on performance and approval and started being built on belonging to God.

The woman I used to be — the one who questioned everything about herself — is now carrying enormous responsibility with a quiet strength I never knew I had. And for that, I give all the glory to God. Not because my life suddenly became easier than the mess my daughter and I were in a year ago, but because my foundation changed.

I remember being in the thick of it, praying for a miracle in what I believed was supposed to be forever. My counselor, Pastor Dave, kept reminding me of Matthew 7:24–27 NIV: “Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse because it is built on bedrock. But anyone who hears my teaching and doesn’t obey it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand.”

For months, I held onto that verse. I did everything I could to start building my foundation on that rock. And if I’m honest, it fell apart a few times along the way. But looking back now, I can say that through this crazy ride, God has slowly rebuilt that foundation through His strength, not my own.

Even in the exhaustion, there were moments that reminded me I wasn’t alone. One day after a particularly hard week, I was talking with my dad and explaining everything that had been going on — the sleepless nights, the sick baby, the new job, trying to keep up with school and moving. He paused and reminded me to look at what I had done and how well I had carried it all. His words really helped me because even in the middle of the chaos, I realized I was still moving forward.

Looking back now, I can see that this season wasn’t meant to break me. It was meant to show me who I had become because for years, I tried to prove my worth through accomplishments, through independence, through trying to hold everything together on my own. But somewhere along the way, God began rebuilding my foundation. Not on success, not on approval, but on Him and maybe that’s what the honest middle really is. It’s the place where life slows down just enough for you to see the person you’re becoming. The place where the plans you once held so tightly fall away, and something deeper takes their place. Not a perfect life, but rather a stronger heart and even in the exhaustion, even in the uncertainty, I can see it now. God is still building something here.

Lastly, I just want to point out that I say all that not to sit here and share the struggles, I share this because my hope is that someone reading this will realize something important: if God can transform my life and my heart the way He has, He can do it for anyone.