Who was I before I knew me?

Unfiltered with Peps - Part 2

Today, we journey deeper into the pages of my becoming. But this time, we pause to reflect on what life looked like before my transformation— before clarity, confidence, and purpose. This is where we talk about the storm before the calm.

Earlier this morning, I asked the Lord why He constantly requires this level of vulnerability from me, and I heard this in my spirit:

“The proof of your transformation is that shame no longer has a hold on you. You now proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.”
(1 Peter 2:9)

I’m sharing firstly because I have been instructed to and secondly because our testimonies are the purest form of evangelism. We don’t just preach with words; we preach with our lives. And in doing so, we give others hope. Hope that no matter how far gone they feel, God is still very much in the business of restoring hearts and rewriting stories. He still makes beauty from ashes.

Before I ever found healing, purpose, or clarity, I was a girl lost in silent battles. From the outside, everything looked fine. I had a good upbringing, came from a loving family, and was raised in a Christian home. As the second child and first daughter, I naturally stepped into the role of the “responsible one.” I always wanted to do what was right, which is: please my parents, be a good example, and keep it together.

But somewhere along the line, I started living for approval. I didn’t know it then, but that quiet pressure to always get it right planted the seed of people-pleasing in me. I always wanted to be in everyone’s good books, especially my family’s.

When I got into university, things got even more confusing. I gave my life to Christ in my 200 level and was even baptized in the Holy Ghost. I had moments in worship where I cried. I had goosebumps in services that felt holy. I knew God loved me, but somehow, I still didn’t know myself.

I remember one time I had to give a presentation in class, and I performed so poorly. I carried that failure around for years like it defined me. It reinforced the lie that I wasn’t smart enough, that I couldn’t articulate my thoughts, and that I had nothing valuable to say. From that moment on, I started shrinking, avoiding opportunities that required me to speak up, second-guessing myself constantly, and silently settling for being a mere participant in my own life, instead of stepping into the role of the main character. And so I stayed small.

Fast forward to my first year after graduation; I had gotten a job for NYSC, and after resuming on my first day, it felt like I didn’t belong there because of the nature of the people in the firm. I had colleagues who were very learned, well-educated, confident, and could communicate clearly. I automatically disqualified myself from being worthy of such an environment. As the months went by, things got harder for me because I didn’t even know how to ask for help when I needed one. I constantly compared myself to others and never spoke up in work meetings. Then I started to realize that when people gave answers at these meetings, it was exactly what I had in my head, but I didn’t have the boldness to speak up. There were moments when my colleagues would compliment my look or outfit, and instead of simply receiving it, I’d respond with, “Are you sure?”—as if I needed extra convincing to believe something good about myself.

I remember one guy I had just become friends with once asked, “Why are you so defensive?” That caught me off guard because no one had ever said it so plainly before. It was a jarring but honest moment that made me reflect deeply.

And through that, I began to see it:

• I was insecure.

• I was emotionally guarded.

• I was constantly second-guessing myself.

• I didn’t know how to receive love or believe I was worthy of it.

• Above all, I was a people pleaser who didn’t know who I was outside of others’ expectations

In my last post, I mentioned a relationship that exposed the cracks in my soul. To give you more context, it wasn’t a relationship in the true sense, it was a situationship, one of those emotionally exhausting connections with no clarity or commitment.

Looking back now, that situationship was my breaking point. It served as the catalyst for my deep soul search. I began to ask God some questions;

• How did I get here?

• How did I become the kind of woman who tolerated being treated like an option?

• How did I become someone who needed to be validated by a man who didn’t even value me?

• Why was I constantly trying to please someone who disrespected me and compared me to other women?

Then one day, as I poured my heart out to God, He began to show me the threads. He took me back to my childhood, to the perfectionism, the silence, the defensiveness, the people-pleasing. He helped me see how all these tiny patterns had been forming over the years, quiet, invisible, but present. And that “situationship” didn’t create them. It only revealed what was already broken.

I was saved but not Whole!

Yes, I had given my life to Christ. Yes, I had spiritual encounters. But I had never been discipled. No one taught me how to live from a place of identity in Christ. So I was going through the motions, crying in church on Sunday, then feeling lost and timid by Monday. I was saved, but still insecure. I knew Jesus died for me, but I didn’t know who I was. And that’s how I ended up in a relationship that mirrored my self-doubt.

As Myles Munroe once said,

“When the purpose of a thing is not known, abuse is inevitable.”

When you don’t know your identity, you accept relationships that don’t honor your values. Not sure I had any values to be fair.

But even in that mess, God was working. That painful season birthed the woman who is now writing this piece. The journey has been long… and lonely at times. But like Scripture says:

“When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned.” (Isaiah 43:2)

Would I have become this woman if I hadn’t walked through that fire? I honestly don’t know.

But what I do know is this:

“As for you, what you intended against me for evil, God intended for good, in order to accomplish a day like this, to preserve the lives of many people.”

Gen 50:20

“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.”
Romans 8:28

The truth is, my transformation didn’t happen overnight. It started five years ago. And even now, I’m still becoming. God is still refining me, shaping me, healing me.

But I no longer carry shame like a second skin. I now walk in the boldness of one who knows her worth. And though there are days I still wrestle with old thoughts, I remind myself that I am no longer that girl. And if God could walk me through that dark valley and bring me into light, then He can do it for you, too.

Dear Friend…

Maybe you’ve been questioning yourself or lost your voice. Maybe you’ve settled for less than you deserve, just to feel seen. I want you to know: You are not alone. God isn’t done with you, and he’s not intimidated by your questions, your wounds, or your confusion.

And your story, even the messy parts, can still be redeemed. Because that storm didn’t come to destroy you. It came to reveal you.

Coming Up in Part 3

In the next post, I’ll share how I began peeling off the false labels and slowly discovering the woman God originally designed. The real me.

Until then, thank you for walking this journey with me. I pray that as you read my story, you reflect on your own. And I hope it draws you closer to the One who never stops calling you home.

Until next time,

With love,
Perpetua 💛