Wait. Who Are You, Again?
The question we're all really asking.
Since we’re going to start sharing our hearts on a weekly basis within this sacred space, I figured it would be helpful if we got acquainted. Or reacquainted.
Hi, I’m Abby.
You may have known me as many different things, depending on the season of life when our paths converged.
Student council secretary. Cheerleader. Youth group worship leader. Cecchetti ballerina. Valedictorian. Political science nerd. African choir member. DC policy wonk. International religious freedom & human rights advocate. Juvenile defense attorney. Social impact advisor. Organizational strategist. Speaker. Published writer. General counsel. Business owner. Board member. Producer. Executive. Partner.
And there were other roles that were playing out simultaneously to these.
Daughter. Relentless writer. Congregant. Wanderlust soul. Friend. Team member. Nature enthusiast. Colleague. Whistleblower. Avid reader. Roommate. Employee. Jazz fan. Mentee. Beloved. Supervisor.
And then the deeper movements that few have ever really known.
Perfectionist. Failure. Resilient. Assault victim. Overcomer. Underestimated. Achiever. Depressed. Encourager. Adventurer. Lonely. Creator. Healer. Builder.
The words that likely best summarize who I am were famously penned by Walt Whitman in “Song of Myself”:
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
For many years, this largeness within me was confusing. I’m an enneagram nine, often coined as “the peacemaker.” The superpower of this ego identity is that it is simultaneously integrated and disintegrated at once – it can both hold incredible conflict, nuance, truth(s), and ideas – creating harmony and a masterful mosaic of hope, while also feeling lost, empty, isolated, unseen and misunderstood in and of itself.
It was well into my adulthood before I understood this.
That my strength is also my weakness, as it is for all of us.
And that the opportunity I had was to transcend identities, (versions of) truth, and beliefs that have been inherited, forced, projected, or adopted over the decades, and uncover (or discover for the first time) who I really was.
Who is Abby?
Not who I was expected to be. Not who I was known as. Not who I wanted to be. Not who others might desire me to be. Not who I was “valued” for being. Not who I was paid to be.
But who was my soul? Who was the essence that God has designed and then unleashed on the world to embody his purpose of love? Who was that? What was that?
It’s the deepest question we’re all asking, isn’t it. Who am I? Why am I here? What am I made for? Am I fully living into that? And how can I tap into that on a daily basis?
The night before I resigned from my job in 2022, I was terrified. More than that, I was numb. I had been in a prison-like coma for the previous month. Transformation was on the horizon and it was like I was trapped within my own being. Desperately wanting to take control, have a say, and stand for the goodness that I knew was just up ahead, but all I could hear were lies.
Many days, many nights, and even more weekends were spent in tears. I felt immobilized, trapped, and like I just couldn’t source words or energy that would set me free. This tortuous way of being culminated the night before a pivotal conversation in which I would transition from a role that I had held for years. One that had shaped my identity, held me through instability, and provided me the one thing I wanted more than anything – a purpose.
By the time I made it to that DC hotel room, I was exhausted in every way. I was emotionally spent and wondered why I had ever thought this was a good idea in the first place. I wrote down some talking points and rehearsed them, but nothing felt true. I had lost the plot. I had forgotten why I was doing this, felt hopeless about a changed future, and had little confidence that I wasn’t walking into a conversation that would take away any semblance of stability I felt I had left.
That evening was very much like the many before it. Heavy, sad, slow, and full of tears and groaning - desperately wanting to feel something. Peace, direction, hope, and any sense of agency is what I was longing for … crying out for.
But none would be found.
So I took a sleep aid and cried out with a prayer that can only be described as pleading. “Please, God, have mercy and bring me back to myself.”
That night would change everything.
In a dream, I woke up in a scene that represented the next morning where I was both fearful and disassociated. Not an unusual feeling from how I had been in the weeks leading up to this moment. I decided that I just couldn’t do this and called my assistant to tell her that I was sick and needed to go back to Texas. I asked her to cancel the meeting with my boss and that I was heading to the airport to go home.
My dream flashed forward and I was standing on the jetway boarding a flight home when I heard God say the same thing to me that he did whenever I had contemplated not moving from D.C. to Texas a year prior – “you can do that and it will be fine. But you’ll never have the life that I wanted for you.”
I responded, “then God, what do you want me to do? How can I step into that life when I can’t even feel myself anymore.”
Suddenly, my dream transported me to a scene that was a vivid representation of what I had been living through the past month. I was sitting on the ground with my knees pulled up to my chest weeping. I was in the middle of a circle surrounded by beings that can only be described as demons. They were continuously spewing lies around me - the cacophony of accusations was deafening. And there I was sitting and crying and begging, “please stop. Why are you doing this? Please quit saying those things. Please, please, please.”
Without any warning, a powerful woman appeared in the middle of the circle standing tall beside me. I looked up at her. She was sure and focused. She held a sword in her right hand and was leveling her gaze at the beings.
I asked her, “Who are you? Why are you here?”
She replied, “I’m you. Who are you? And why are you just sitting there crying?”
Immediately my perspective was within the body of the powerful woman and as I looked down at my former self on the ground, it had collapsed like a wet piece of tissue paper. It was a shadow form that no longer had any substance to support its tormented shape.
Now standing tall as the warrior woman I’ve always known myself to be, I looked around the circle of beings. Each one came forward and spoke a lie …
You’re a failure. Everything you touch gets worse.
You’re a disappointment. You can’t do anything right, worthwhile or worthy of being proud of.
You’re a nobody from nowhere bound to accomplish nothing.
You are weak. You can’t withstand the pressure.
You are alone, unloved and unwanted. You are barely tolerated.
Your life is not worth living. People would be happier if you didn’t exist.
But this time as each lie presented itself, I struck it down with the sword and it evaporated. And when I was finished, I woke up in my hotel room, standing beside my bed yelling with strong clenched fists, “no more!”
Waking up in that state at 3am, I felt alive for the first time in weeks. I had come back from a coma. I had reclaimed my body, my agency, my power, my identity.
I heard God say, “Now spend some time remembering who you are and what I’ve brought you through.”
I was determined to do just that so I sat back down on the bed and looked at my cell phone for a quick time check. I had three missed text messages from three unrelated friends all with the same message, “Abby, remember who you are.”
I knew it wasn’t an accident. It was the truth I needed to complete my transformation. And right there, I prayed and remembered all of the supernatural wonders that God had done in my life up to that point. And how much more he wishes for my future.
But sometimes our future selves require a transformation. And part of transformation is death. But it is also being reborn. And that rebirth will change everything.
So regardless of who you may have known me to be, in whatever season our paths may have crossed. I think I now understand what Jay-Z meant when he said “allow me to reintroduce myself” because I’m no longer who I was, I am now just who I am as my present self. And she is also still in the process of her becoming so I hope you’ll journey with me as we all tap into our true selves together – our souls, our essence, our God-designed purpose-full beings.
Wonderful to meet you. I’m so glad we’re in this together.