The Value You Carry

August 3, 2025

Every person has value.
But it’s not always something we recognize right away.
Value is often taught—through encouragement, correction, experience, and the training of our attitudes and behaviors. And like anything we learn, it requires practice. Over time, with repetition, it becomes second nature—like muscle memory for the soul.

When I became a teacher, it took me three years to truly embrace the role. It wasn't instant. It took time and experience to figure out how to move among students and colleagues, to find my place and my voice.

Now, as a real estate agent in my third year, I feel a similar rhythm beginning to form.
The early days were full of learning curves—contracts, negotiations, market shifts—but also full of personal doubt. I questioned if I belonged in this space, if I could truly bring value in an industry that often moves fast and expects more.

But with time, I’ve found my footing.
I’m gaining a deeper understanding not just of the business, but of my place within it—how to lead with integrity, how to advocate with heart, and how to serve clients in a way that reflects who I am, not just what I know.

Confidence is growing—not in perfection, but in presence. In knowing I’m showing up fully, and faithfully, in every deal and every relationship.

As a wife, it’s been nearly 11 years—and what a ride it’s been.
The journey of two becoming one has been one of the most beautiful and difficult things I’ve ever walked through. It’s not just about sharing a home or a last name—it’s about surrendering pride, learning to communicate in new languages of love, and choosing each other daily, even when it would be easier not to.

There were seasons I lost myself—slowly, quietly—beneath the expectations, the compromises, the weight of wanting to be a “good” wife. There were moments I looked in the mirror and didn’t quite recognize who I’d become. But grace has a way of reaching into those foggy places and gently reminding us: you’re still in there. I’ve rediscovered pieces of me I didn’t know I had buried—strength, softness, desire, identity. And I continue to unearth them, piece by piece, through every challenge and breakthrough.

Motherhood added another layer entirely.
It cracked my heart wide open in ways I couldn’t have imagined—both in pain and in joy. It demanded more of me than I thought I had to give. It rearranged my priorities, my body, my schedule, and my soul. And while I wouldn’t trade it for anything, I would be lying if I said it didn’t also make it nearly impossible to stay the same.

And maybe that’s the point.
Maybe we’re not meant to stay the same.

So the journey continues: learning how to hold space for all of me—wife, mother, woman, daughter of God.
Learning how to wear the many hats without losing my head—or my heart.
Learning how to be faithful to others without being a stranger to myself.

I once read in Dr. Rob Reimer’s book Soul Care that “The issue of your value was settled on the cross.”
That one line pierced through years of striving, of wondering if I was doing enough, being enough, becoming enough.

It stopped me in my tracks—because deep down, I had lived as though my worth had to be earned. Earned through productivity. Through perfection. Through being needed, being strong, being agreeable. But that quote reminded me: the truest part of me—the part God sees—was already declared worthy long before I ever took my first breath.

That truth became my anchor.

It carried me through late nights as a teacher, questioning whether I was making a difference. Through moments in marriage when I wondered if I was lovable in my mess. Through the sacred exhaustion of motherhood, where I sometimes felt invisible, emptied, or not enough.

It’s still the truth I return to, especially on the days when comparison creeps in or the voices of inadequacy get too loud.

The issue of my value was settled on the cross.

That means it can’t be undone by failure.
It can’t be inflated by applause.
It’s not up for debate.
It’s not conditional.
It’s finished—just like Jesus said.

And that changes everything.

You are unique.
And only you can offer the world the one-of-a-kind value that you carry.

Yes, our families shape us. So do our friends, our communities, and our work.
But we shape them, too.
Our presence changes rooms. Our love transforms relationships. Our courage inspires those watching. We carry value into every space we enter.

As I continue to write and share my heart, my hope is simple:
That you’ll be inspired to become more of yourself—not less. Not someone else. Just more of the you that God created on purpose.

No one is perfect.
But I know who I am.
And I know whose I am.

I am loved.
I am blessed.
And so are you.

💬 What season are you in right now—rediscovering, becoming, or simply being? I’d love to hear how you’re embracing your value. Feel free to share with me a message via email itsyeryang@gmail.com.

Real stories. Real growth. Rooted in grace.