There is a tender place in my story where the Lord peeled back a layer I had carried for most of my life.

Some stories we carry silently for years, sometimes for decades, before we dare to name them. My journey with self‑hatred is one of those stories. It shaped how I saw myself, how I treated myself, and how I expected others to treat me. It was woven into the deepest layers of my identity long before I understood its cost. It was subtle, familiar, woven into my thoughts like background noise. I never recognised it as sin, never imagined it could grieve His heart. I simply believed it was the truth about me.

For decades, I held myself to impossible standards. I judged myself harshly, criticised every flaw, condemned every shortcoming and believed the lie that I was unworthy of being loved, seen, or chosen, undeserving of care, and unacceptable in the eyes of others.

I pushed myself harder than anyone else ever would, punishing myself for past failures and convincing myself that disappointment was my portion. I judged myself more severely than anyone else ever could. I rejected parts of myself that God had lovingly created. I called myself names He never once spoke over me. I believed lies about my worth and hid behind perfectionism, self‑protection and inner vows.

What I never realised was that this deep self‑rejection was more than emotional pain. It became a form of spiritual rebellion because it stood in direct opposition to what God says is true about me. Not rebellion in the sense of defiance, but rebellion through agreement with a lie. Rebellion through rejecting what God calls good. Rebellion through partnering with shame instead of truth. When I hated myself, I was unintentionally opposing the One who created me, the One who calls me beloved, chosen, and wonderfully made.

The Holy Spirit revealed, with such gentleness, that self‑hatred is not humility and it is not harmless. It is the quiet refusal to agree with God's love. It is the inner voice that says, "I know myself better than You do, Lord," and "My opinion of me outweighs Yours." It is distrust wrapped in self‑protection. It is unbelief clothed in familiarity.

This revelation came during my healing journey, at a moment when I felt the deep ache of worthlessness rise again. The Holy Spirit whispered, not in condemnation, but with such compassion:

Those words broke something open in me.

I saw how self‑hatred had become a fortress, a place where I hid from love and resisted the truth of who Jesus says I am. It had shaped inner vows, bitter judgments against myself, false refuges, and patterns that kept me small, silent, and afraid. It had become the lens through which I saw everything, even God.

So I did the only thing I could do — I brought it to Him.

I repented.

I renounced every agreement with self‑contempt.

I laid down the belief that I was unworthy of love, caring, compassion and acceptance.

I asked Jesus to forgive me for rejecting the one He so dearly loves.

I invited His truth to rewrite the places where self‑hatred once ruled.

And He came.

He did not come with judgment, but with restoration. He washed over me with love that was patient, holy, and unashamed. He reminded me that I am His workmanship, His beloved daughter, fearfully and wonderfully made, and that to despise myself was to despise the work of His hands.

As I repented for the hidden rebellion of self‑hatred — for agreeing with the enemy's voice over God's, for rejecting His workmanship, for dishonouring the daughter He formed — something shifted again inside me.

It did not feel dramatic. It felt like surrender. It felt like letting go of a heavy garment I had worn far too long.

After that repentance, I began noticing something unexpected. The allergies that had plagued me for decades, especially during the mornings and change of seasons, began to reduce. The constant irritation, the heightened reactions, the sensitivity that made my body feel fragile — they softened. Days passed, then weeks, and I realised the intensity had dropped significantly.

The connection became clear. My body had been responding to the poison of inner hatred. When I broke the agreement with it, the symptoms began to lose their grip.

Self‑hatred wounds the soul. The wounded soul affects the body. Yet Jesus restores all three — spirit, soul, and body — through the Cross.

When I repented, I was not simply rejecting a mindset. I was renouncing a spiritual agreement that had shaped my life. I was turning toward the truth of who God says I am. I was stepping out of rebellion and into alignment with His heart.

The healing that followed — both emotional and physical — was His kindness.

Self‑hatred lost its grip that day. It still whispers sometimes, as old memories do, yet it no longer has authority. I know now that agreeing with those lies is stepping into rebellion, and agreeing with His truth is stepping into freedom.

Jesus is teaching me to love who He created. To honour the story He is writing. To see myself through the eyes of the One who formed me with intention, purpose, and tenderness.

I share this as part of my journey of becoming whole — learning that healing is not only about overcoming trauma, but also about surrendering the ways we have stood against the Father's love without even realising it. His kindness leads us to repentance, and repentance leads us home.

💡Reflection:

• Where have I believed lies about myself that oppose God's truth? 🤔

• How has self‑hatred shaped vows, expectations, or behaviours in my life? 🤔

• In what ways might self‑rejection or self‑hatred be affecting my body or my relationships? 🤔

• How is the Holy Spirit inviting me to see myself through the Father's eyes today? 🤔

• What would it look like to agree with God's love today? 🤔

🎺Affirmation:

I am beautifully made, deeply loved, and fully accepted by the God who crafted every part of me with purpose and delight. I choose to align with His truth about me. I break the agreement with every lie that opposes His truth and step into the freedom of being His beloved.

🙌 Prayer:

Jesus, thank You for revealing the hidden roots of self‑hatred and for gently leading me into repentance and freedom. Thank You for healing not only my heart but also my body as I aligned myself with Your truth. Teach me to love what You love, especially when that love is directed toward me. Heal the places that still tremble and rewrite my heart with Your gentleness. Teach me to see myself as You see me, to honour the workmanship of Your hands, and to walk daily in the liberty You purchased for me.

In Jesus' Name, Amen.