The Write Voice Podcast
We analyze compelling characters and human behaviors in novels to spark your personal growth and self-development. Discover yourself, one story at a time.
The Write Voice Podcast
what’s the tangled lie about worth?
Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.
In this episode, we begin by exploring a foundational question: What’s the tangled lie you’ve believed about your worth? So often, our sense of value is shaped by quiet, deeply rooted narratives—beliefs formed through experiences, relationships, and expectations we’ve carried for years.
Together, we’ll gently uncover these hidden stories and examine how they’ve influenced the way we see ourselves. This isn’t about judgment or fixing—it’s about awareness, curiosity, and compassion.
As we begin to untangle these lies, we make space for something truer: the understanding that worthiness isn’t something we earn—it’s something we already possess.
This week, you’re invited to slow down, reflect, and notice the inner dialogue that shapes your sense of self. What have you been believing? And what might be possible if you let that belief go?
Let’s start unraveling. 🧵
Welcome back to the Right Voice. I'm your host Jessica. And if you're returning to us or sitting with us for the first time, thank you for joining. Today I want to begin a new series with something commonly spoken about. All of us carry it. So let's talk about worth. And so this April, our newest trek is inspired by the Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown. And while we focus on worth, I really want to dive into the lie that we've learned about worth. Because somewhere along the way, many of us absorbed a message that love had conditions. And maybe no one has said it outright. But it goes a little something like this. You're worthy when you perform well, when you're agreeable, when you're needed, when you don't make things harder. And over time, that message causes erosion. We become hyper aware, hyper responsible, hyper capable. But underneath all of that strength, there's often a question Am I enough as I am? And if that question has ever lived inside of you, this episode is for you. In The Gifts of Imperfection, Brene Brown talks about wholehearted living, and she defines worthiness as a birthright, not a categorized earning or hustle or achievement. It's a birthright. And that sounds beautiful in theory. But if we're honest, many of us don't live like that's true. We live like worth is fleeing, like it can be revoked or lost, like one mistake, one failure, one rejection could confirm the fear we've been carrying all along. So today, I want to gently explore three things. The lie we tend to believe, how it quietly shapes our lives, and how we can begin untangling from it. So let's confront the lie. The lie is simple, but packs a punch. I am worthy because and so we fill in the blank. I am worthy because I'm a good partner. I'm a good mother. I work hard, I'm kind, I don't cause problems, I keep the peace, I succeed. And here's where things slightly shift. All of those things are beautiful qualities, but when because becomes the foundation of our worth, we start living on unstable ground. Because what happens when we're tired? When we fail, when someone leaves, when we can't keep everyone happy. If our worth is attached to performance, then every setback feels like a threat. And that's exhausting. Not because we aren't strong, but because we're trying to secure something that was never meant to be earned in the first place. Well, how does this show up in real life? Let's bring it into everyday moments. Maybe you overexplain your decisions just in case someone misunderstands you. Maybe you apologize quickly, even when you're not wrong, but because tension feels unbearable. Maybe you push yourself to keep achieving because slowing down feels dangerous. Maybe rest feels indulgent. Maybe asking for help feels weak. Maybe boundaries feel selfish. But these aren't character flaws. They're patterns of survival. And when we grow up believing love is conditional, we learn to manage it. And we do that by anticipating needs, minimizing ourselves, proving our value. And again, that might have helped at one point. It might have kept the peace. It might have protected relationships, and it may have made you feel safe. But here's the question I want to ask. Is it still serving you? Or is it keeping you in a cycle of overgiving and under receiving? Is it worthiness versus approval? Because there's a difference between wanting approval and knowing your worth. Approval is external. Worthiness is internal. Approval fluctuates. Worthiness is steady. Approval depends on other people's preferences. Worthiness exists whether anyone agrees or not. And when we confuse the two, we start organizing our lives around reactions. We become editors of ourselves. We shrink certain opinions, we minimize certain truths, we delay certain dreams, and we don't do these things because we're incapable. We do them because we're afraid that if we show up fully, we might lose connection. And connection matters, of course it does. But here's something important. True connection can exist where performance is required. And if someone only loves the version of you that never disappoints them, that's not love rooted in your humanity. It's love rooted in convenience. And you deserve a love deeper than that. So how do we begin untangling? We do it with care. And here are three practices you can begin with this week. The first one is to notice when you're trying to earn something. Pause during the day and ask, am I doing this because I want to or because I'm trying to prove something? There's no judgment here, just awareness. And awareness is powerful. It interrupts autopilot. And the second thing is to replace self-criticism with curiosity. Instead of I shouldn't feel this way, try I wonder why this feels hard. Curiosity softens shame, and shame is one of the biggest threats to worthiness. Shame says something is wrong with me, and curiosity says something needs attention. Those are very different messages. The third thing is to practice one act of self-respect. Really identify how that shows up for you. Maybe it's saying no without a long explanation or resting without apologizing. Maybe it's expressing an opinion calmly and letting it stand. Small acts build internal evidence, and over time that evidence rewires belief. Let's also reframe what we carry into the week. What if your worth has never been in question? What if the only thing that changed was your belief about it? If worth was lost, we'd have to go find it. But if belief shifted, we can rebuild it. And rebuilding belief doesn't require becoming someone new. It requires remembering. Remembering who you were before you felt you had to prove yourself, and remembering the parts of you that were expressive, curious, steady. Remembering that belonging isn't earned through perfection, it's experienced through authenticity. And for my friends who feel tired, if you're listening and you feel tired, not physically but emotionally, this may be why. Carrying conditional worth is heavy. It turns every interaction into evaluation and every mistake into evidence, every disagreement into danger, and that's not sustainable. You're allowed to exist without constant proof, and you're allowed to rest without losing value. You're allowed to take up space without shrinking first. So before we close, I want to leave you with a question to sit with. Where in your life are you trying to earn what has already been assigned to you? Don't rush to answer. Let it surface. Maybe it's in a relationship or in your work or how you speak to yourself. And as you notice, don't attack yourself for it. Just notice. Because noticing is the beginning of freedom. This month, we're exploring what it means to reclaim what was always there. Not by striving harder or becoming shinier, but by gently releasing the beliefs that told us we weren't enough. And if this resonated with you, share it with someone who might need the reminder. And this week, I hope you practice one small thing. Let yourself belong without auditioning. You don't have to prove you belong here. You already do. Thank you for joining me in this small space. I'll meet you here next time. Take care.