For anyone who’s ever mistaken survival for self-worth.
I got a text from one of my partners this morning, thanking me for sharing my massage therapy knowledge:
"I used the massage gun to get into those spots you showed me and it's so ridiculous how much that helps...Thanks for teaching me something I didn't know. It's gonna be super valuable."
Lately, this partner and I have been talking about my struggle to see the value I bring to relationships. I almost replied to his text saying, “Yay! I bring value to us!” — and that’s when it hit me.
It’s not that I can’t see my value.
It’s that my reference point for what “value” means — especially in relationships — has been shadowbanned.
My first relationship was my only relationship for about 16 years.
The first kiss.
The first significant other.
The first everything.
And in that long, marital relationship, I showed up as me — believing that my inherent worth was enough. But it didn’t work. (Now, let’s be clear: this isn’t to shit all over my ex or erase his part in our dynamic. We both contributed to the rise and fall of that castle.)
It’s just that my entire relationship history became built on a problematic premise:
That my worth had to be proven through performance.
It didn’t help that we were both deeply embedded in the Mormon church, which stifled any ability to stand fully in my truth. There wasn’t a lot of room for bold, loud, empowered women.
I’d hear — and still sometimes hear — the internal echo:
“But Kylee, you can be a strong woman in the church!”
Sure.
If you’re strong in the right ways.
If you don’t buck authority or question tradition.
If you keep your power small enough to fit neatly under a husband or priesthood leader.
Because heaven forbid a woman be too powerful in a system built to contain her.
Fast-forward to now: I’m in a totally different season of life, but the same sneaky voice sometimes shows up — this time disguised as a five-letter word that shall not be named.
(whisper coughs Money.)
I actually love Money. I’ve been healing my relationship with her. She’s not the villain — she’s neutral energy, an amplifier. But somewhere along the way, I decided my value in a relationship was directly tied to my financial stability.
If I needed help, I was a burden.
If I couldn’t provide enough while working full-time and building my coaching practice, I wasn’t “doing enough.”
And in those moments, I forgot what I’ve already financially survived:
20+ years of tithing 10% of my income to a billion-dollar corporation that guilt-tripped me when I needed help.
A divorce lawyer.
Loss of employment.
Seven months without child support while putting myself through a coaching education program.
Twenty-one months without reimbursement for medical or extracurricular expenses.
How quickly we forget our receipts.
So what's the point of all this rambling?
If you, like me, struggle to see your worth — whether it’s from years of religious brainwashing or just a lifetime of being told your value depends on your output — this is your reminder:
Reducing your worth to your financial status, productivity, or emotional availability is total and utter bullshit.
You are not valuable because of what you do.
You are valuable because you exist.
Here's the kicker...
"Scientists estimate that the odds of you existing exactly as you are, your DNA, your consciousness, your unique frequency, are in one in 400 trillion. Let that sink in. You are literally rarer than winning the lottery 100 times in a row, being struck by lightning while holding a four leaf clover, and meting an honest politician...all in the same day."
So if you’re that rare, do you really believe your worth can be diminished by circumstances outside your control?
Because, friend — your very existence is the value.
The rest is just noise.
Be strong. Do it scared. 💜
