Are You Worth It?7:30 AM
Six years ago a group of middle school-aged males walked out the door of Pizza Hut. They shoved the door open, laughing and punching each other. One looked back before he let the door slam shut—in my face.
It is not an unforgiving heart that retains the wounds of that six-year-old memory. It’s just that my ego was crushed for all eternity. Actually, I’ve got a whole Book of Grudges about Young Men Who Do Not Hold the Door Open. The teens back at our old church who would let doors slam all over the place while mothers struggled with babies and bags. The guys at the library who wouldn’t even look back to see if there was a lady coming. The public schooled sampling who graciously let me prop the door open for them while my hands were full—and then complained under their breath that I was in the way. (Or perhaps not. That part gets more colorful as time progresses and recollection fades.)
Deep, deep down, I’ve got dignity. A dignity that’s easily crawled over and stamped on and shoved away. But it’s strong. In my private opinion, I’m worth something—at least I ought to be. Every girl, in her own way, expresses the same sense of worth—from the girl who feels insecure because no one will look her way to the drama queen who needs to meet a daily quota of attention to the little lady who keeps tabs on who and who does not hold the door open for her.
We need to be wanted. Loved. More than that—cherished. And as I tried to explain to a male friend, we do odd things to articulate that—like picking on someone to subtly remind them to be kind to us—or else.
And it’s a drive so strong that some girls sacrifice their worth in order to satisfy it. Good little Christian girls are warned not to dress like, act like or think like the girls of the world—the girls who bring a guy down, who are all available and flaunt that, whose chief goal is to snag a date for the weekend.
We’d never be like them. But that little cover-up—the thinking that we could never allow ourselves to fall so far—oftentimes brings us to the line. If we don’t admit that, we’ll stumble. A quiet but true fact: Good little Christian girls are sinful enough to share the same secret desires as the floozy down the road and smart enough not to mention the fact that they do.
We're peeling back facades over at Unplug Your Family today.