I sometimes wonder what people think I have figured out.

Because the person people see and the person I know when I'm alone can feel like two completely different people.

In my church, for instance, I'm just a university student. But somehow, whenever there's something to be done, people will look at me like,

“Ah, see you, Olórì.” 😂

They see someone who can handle things. Someone who is capable. Someone who probably knows what she's doing.

And sometimes I'm just standing there thinking,

“I pray I actually amount to what you guys describe me to be.” 😭

I remember telling someone that once.

And honestly, I meant it.

Because sometimes people speak about you in ways that make you wonder if they are seeing something you haven't seen yet.

The same thing happens online.

You post something, and someone sees it and thinks,

“Omo, this person don arrive.”

They see your pictures.

They see your achievements.

They see the things you write.

They see you showing up confidently.

They see the version of you that made it to the screen.

But they don't see what happens after you put your phone down.

They don't see you wondering if you're actually doing enough.

They don't see you comparing yourself to your mates and asking,

“Am I slow?”

“Am I behind?”

“Why does everything seem so difficult for me?”

“Am I even going in the right direction?”

Sometimes, the person people think has everything figured out is sitting somewhere trying to figure herself out too.

And I think that's one of the strangest things about how people perceive us.

People can see your progress while you're busy looking at everything you haven't achieved.

They can see your confidence while you're fighting your own doubts.

They can see your strength while you're quietly asking God,

“Why is this so difficult?”

And maybe that's why we shouldn't always trust the way we see ourselves when we're going through a difficult season.

Because sometimes, we are standing too close to our own lives.

We see the mistakes.

We see the delays.

We see the things that aren't working.

We see the parts that still need fixing.

But someone standing outside might see something completely different.

They might see someone who keeps trying.

Someone who shows up.

Someone who has potential.

Someone who is becoming.

Maybe that's what those people in my church are seeing when they call me “Olórì.”

Maybe they're not saying I've figured everything out.

Maybe they're reminding me of the person I'm capable of becoming.

And perhaps I don't have to already be that person before I can believe that she exists.

Maybe I'm still becoming her.

Maybe the person people see in me is simply a version of me that I haven't learned to see in myself yet.

And honestly?

I hope I grow into her. ❤️