Your Usefulness is Something You Give. Your Worth is Something You Have.

Sometimes people, even high-profile people push their fans and admirers away because THEY realize that they were performing and trying to earn love. They realize that the person that others loved wasn’t the “real” them.

No, I don’t have any stories of Lucille Ball pushing any of her fans away.

But I notice other people who may be fans of other celebrities feeling disillusioned these days. Sometimes people do not like who they felt they had to be back when you liked them. Maybe you didn’t even make the request that they be someone else, but for some reason they felt the pull. 

The brilliant Lucille Ball once explained where she thought her comedy began. And it wasn’t on a television set.

When Lucy was little, she spent years living with strict step-grandparents.

She remembered watching them treat other children with the affection she wanted—but not treating her that way.

They believed withholding that warmth would discipline her.

Instead, Lucy said it left her frustrated, always reaching out, always trying to please.

And then she discovered something.

She could make people laugh.

Laughter gave her something she had been reaching for: approval.

So the little girl who wanted to be loved learned how to perform.

Years later, millions of people would laugh because of her. Millions would adore her. I’m one of them. That woman was so funny!

She would become Lucille Ball—the woman behind one of the most beloved television characters in American history.

But there is something about the beginning of that story that Survivors may recognize.

Sometimes, long before we have words for what is happening, we learn what version of ourselves gets the best response.

Be helpful. Be funny. Be easy. Be impressive. Don’t need too much. Read the room. Make everyone comfortable. Become useful.

And maybe, if we do it well enough, we’ll get the love we’ve been reaching for.

So we get very, very good at performing.

But usefulness cannot turn conditional love into unconditional love.

And this is something you are allowed to learn now:

You don’t have to make anyone laugh.

You don’t have to make their life easier.

You don’t have to anticipate their needs.

You don’t have to become smaller, happier, quieter, prettier, stronger, more successful, more agreeable, or more useful.

You don’t have to keep adjusting yourself until someone finally decides you are worth loving.

You were trained to ask:

What do I need to do to be loved here?

You are allowed to start asking:

Can I be loved here when I’m not doing anything at all?

Because love is not supposed to be a performance review.

And you don’t have to audition anymore.

AFFIRMATIONS

I do not have to perform to be loved.

I am allowed to be loved when I have nothing to offer.

I do not have to exhaust myself proving that I am worth keeping.

I release the belief that being needed is the same as being loved.

I can be generous without making generosity the price of belonging.

I do not have to anticipate everyone’s needs in order to deserve care.

I am allowed to disappoint someone and still be worthy of love.

I don’t have to become easier to love.

I don’t have to be funny when I am hurting.

I don’t have to be strong when I need support.

I don’t have to be useful when I need rest.

I don’t have to be agreeable when something hurts me.

I don’t have to make myself smaller so someone else will stay.

Someone else’s withdrawal of approval does not determine my worth.

I can stop auditioning for a place in people’s lives.

I am learning the difference between being appreciated for what I do and being loved for who I am.

I am allowed to discover who I am when I am no longer performing for acceptance.

I don’t have to earn today what should never have been conditional in the first place.