If I ask you how much your Italian leather handbag is worth, you could easily tell me. Right? Okay. Here's the tricky part. If I ask you YOUR worth, what you got to say, sis?
I know exactly what my handbags are worth. I know the value of my car, laptop, streaming subscriptions, and big ole bag of bite size Snickers in my desk. But, Lord have mercy, sometimes I have forgotten MY worth. Don't get it twisted. I KNOW I am the epitome of fabulousity (Yes, I made that word up because that's what fabulous people do.) It's not that I don't think I am worth my weight in diamonds and a buttery bowl of grits. No doubt. But I have not always demanded it from other people. At times, I have accepted below par treatment. I have doubted myself based on someone else's underestimate of me. I have been content with lower salaries. I have allowed folks to make me the butt of jokes and not spoken up for myself. What kind of bull crap is that? One day, it hit me. Do I REALLY know my worth? I suppose I was just keeping that value to myself and not making it known. Dang. I will never say I have mastered anything (other than being fabulous), but I can say that I am learning to demand, command, require others to treat me like the queen I am. I'm learning to speak up, say no, and walk away. I'm learning to ignore anything and anybody who does not see my value. If you don't acknowledge all of dis right here, you can kiss my Italian leather handbag. Wait. Well, maybe not the handbag, but you get what I'm saying.
How much is your time worth? Your peace? Your heart? We are all still learning, but even baby steps count as progress. Know your worth. Don't keep it a secret. Shout it from the mountain top! Tattoo it on your forehead! Buy a big ole billboard by the Superdome letting everybody and they maw know that you ARE the epitome of fabulousity and you will accept nothing less.
Be well,
Dr. B