By Courtney Devich 
“Well, what did they say?” I asked her.
“They said no,” she replied with tears welling up in her little eyes. I could tell she was trying to fight those tears and keep those blue eyes dry. And my heart just sank.
We were at big brother’s football practice, and my daughter was begging me (persistently—that little girl is determined) to ask some other girls to play with her on the side of the field. She was afraid to go over by herself and ask them, but I kept trying to encourage her to be brave and ask them herself. She finally did (you go, girl!).
And the answer was, “We don’t want to play with you.”
She quickly responded to them with an “okay” and headed back my way, keeping those tears at bay. And oh, how my heart broke because suddenly, I’m transported back to elementary school when I’m watching the popular girls play on the playground without me. Or I’m remembering the birthday parties I wasn’t invited to. Or the time the first boy I had a crush on responded “Ew” when my friend told him I had a crush on him. Or the friends that I lost to other girls for whatever reason. Or in high school when the first boy I kissed dumped me just a few weeks later.
My daughter—my baby girl—had just experienced rejection, and I was reliving all the rejection I experienced as a young girl and teen.
I’ll be honest, I always wanted a daughter. Someone to pass down my American Girl dolls to and give my wedding gown to one day. Someone to be my best friend (I’m a millennial, I watched a lot of Gilmore Girls, okay). I imagined braiding her hair, painting her toes, and as she got older, telling her all about boys and friendships. I have fears, too, regarding raising a girl (I’m not looking forward to the hormones of puberty or the sex talk, that’s for sure), but I always wanted a daughter.
However, no one prepared me for reliving all the emotions of my childhood as I raised a daughter.
The mean girls and how words can hurt just as much, if not more, than getting slapped in the face. The bullying and the teasing. The feeling like I’m not as beautiful or special because I’m not wearing the same brand of shoes or jeans as the other girls. The feeling that I’m not enough. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not funny enough. The self-doubt and lack of confidence. The perfectionism and feeling like if I’m not perfect, I can’t possibly be loved.
I may be reliving my emotions from when I was a young girl, but I sure am going to relearn all the lies I ever believed about myself while I’m at it. I’m determined to find healing for myself along the way.
Because God has called me by name—He has redeemed me and says I am His (Isaiah 43:1). I am fearfully and wonderfully made by Him (Psalm 139:14). And God says I am precious, honored, and loved by Him (Isaiah 43:4). That I am chosen and set apart for His glory (Isaiah 43:7).
And so, as I help my daughter navigate the rejections—along with the self-doubt and feeling less than that will sometimes come with it—I’m going to teach her Truth. And God’s Word is full of Truth to combat those lies that the world will try to tell her—that she’s not pretty enough, smart enough, talented enough.
Nuh-uh.
God says she’s more than enough.
She is my daughter…but she’s His daughter first, and I pray she always remembers that Truth.
by Lilly Holland 
by Tiffany Reiger 
by Danielle Peterson 
