When Someone Saw My Brilliance Before I Did

I still remember the moment.

I had just attended a board meeting for a professional women's organization I had served for years. After the meeting, I met Jean, the organization’s president, at a restaurant.

I had barely joined her when she looked me straight in the eyes and said:

"Please tell me you're making multiple six figures," she said.

I froze.

Then I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because something in me felt exposed.

I looked back at her and said two words:

"I wish."

Because I wasn't. Not even close.

Not because I lacked experience, strategy, skill, wisdom, results, or heart.

The truth was far more uncomfortable.

I hadn't yet learned to value myself the way others did.

I hadn't fully owned the weight of what I carried.

I hadn't embraced my brilliance.

And I hadn't allowed myself to believe that the work God had entrusted to me could create significant value and be compensated accordingly.

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Looking back, I can see that my struggle wasn't really money.

Money was simply where the consequences showed up.

The deeper issue was value.

More specifically, it was my willingness to fully own the value I carried.

So I hid.

Not behind incompetence, failure or lack of experience.

I hid behind my clients and serving them.

I didn't want to put myself in a spotlight where I had to toot my own horn.

And because of that, I consistently underrepresented myself.

I underpriced, overdelivered, and even hesitated to send invoices.

I struggled to talk about my accomplishments.

I found it easier to champion everyone else's brilliance than to acknowledge my own.

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Maybe you can relate.

Perhaps you've spent years accumulating wisdom, experience, expertise, and insight.

Perhaps people regularly tell you how valuable your work is.

Perhaps you've helped others achieve remarkable results.

And yet, when it comes to your own value, your own visibility, or your own pricing, something inside you still hesitates.

You wonder:

Who am I to charge that?

Who am I to be visible?

Who am I to step into a bigger opportunity?

Who am I to believe my work is that valuable?

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Those questions can keep us small for a very long time.

I've learned that thoughtful, service-oriented, faith-driven people often struggle with this more than anyone.

We worry about appearing prideful.

We don't want to seem self-promotional.

We want to serve well.

We want to honor God.

And somewhere along the way, many of us begin to confuse humility with underestimation.

But they're not the same thing.

Humility doesn't mean denying your gifts.

Humility doesn't mean minimizing your impact.

Humility doesn't mean pretending your work creates less value than it does.

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True humility recognizes where your gifts came from and chooses to steward them well.

That includes allowing them to create value.

That includes allowing them to generate income.

That includes allowing them to have influence.

Because the people you're called to serve cannot benefit from gifts that remain hidden.

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Today, I can see Jean's question differently.

She wasn't really asking about money.

She was revealing a gap.

A gap between the value others experienced from me and the value I was willing to claim.

And if I'm honest, I'm still closing that gap.

This isn't a story with a neat bow.

It's a chapter in motion.

I'm still growing.

Still stretching.

Still learning to believe what God says about me more than what fear whispers.

Still learning that owning my value isn't pride.

It's stewardship.

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And maybe that's where you find yourself too.

If so, I want you to know something.

You are not broken.

You are becoming.

The gifts you've been given matter.

The experience you've accumulated matters.

The wisdom you've earned matters.

The value you create matters.

And perhaps the next level of your calling isn't about becoming someone different.

Perhaps it's about finally recognizing and stewarding what has been there all along.

Because the world loses when valuable people underestimate the value they've been entrusted with.

And maybe, just maybe, it's time to stop saying "I wish" and start saying:

"I'm becoming."

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