Three years ago today, I closed a sacred chapter — completing Elijah House D-School, the last of what Clive lovingly calls my “Alphabet Schools.” It was a quiet victory. No fanfare, just a sense of holy fulfilment as I checked off “study” on my INVEST list. At the time, I didn’t realise that every other item on that list would be marked complete in the years to follow. God was already finishing what He began.

Today, that memory is tenderly wrapped in another — one that stings a little more.

Last year, Elias casually mentioned that I looked “frumpy” when he first met me.

I don’t think he meant to hurt me. Maybe it was just an observation. Maybe even a compliment, wrapped in comparison to the “after.” But it lodged itself deep. It made me wonder...

What would his impression have been if he’d met me before my transformation? Would he have hired me at all? Would I even have been worth the risk in his eyes?

It’s not about bitterness. It’s about bruises.

I’ve lived through a lifetime of being overlooked, misunderstood, or judged for how I appeared before people knew who I was. And those words — even the casual ones — sometimes poke at the child in me who just wanted to be seen. Not sized up.

Yet here’s the truth the Holy Spirit keeps whispering:

My transformation was never to impress anyone.

It was a journey of becoming — not a makeover, but a miracle.

Not polished to be palatable, but purified to carry presence.

Even before the outward changed, God saw beauty. Purpose. Worth.

So if they couldn't see the treasure then, that doesn’t diminish its value now.

I bless that “before” version of me — the one who wore the weight of life in her body and soul. She was worthy. She was already beloved. Already called.

I won’t let someone else’s limited lens define the masterpiece God continues to shape in me.

Today, I honour every hidden blossom that bloomed before anyone noticed.

Because I was never frumpy.

I was becoming.

And I still am.