Beyond the Measuring Stick

A mature woman wearing flowing robes stands on a rugged seaside cliff at sunrise, holding a wooden measuring stick as she gazes toward the horizon. The text asks, "What if the problem was never you?" The image reflects the journey of questioning inherited standards and remembering the worth that has always existed within.

When other people’s standards become the measure of your worth

There comes a point when you begin to wonder why nothing ever feels like enough.

I’d worked hard, tried to make good decisions, and become the person others expected me to be. Yet beneath all that effort, I felt others were always measuring my worth.

It didn’t matter how much I accomplished, how I looked, or how closely my life matched my family’s and society’s expectations. Somehow, it never felt like enough. For a long time, I didn’t question the measuring stick. I simply assumed that if I worked harder, did better, or became more of what others expected, I would finally feel worthy.

Eventually, I discovered that the problem wasn’t me, but the measuring stick used to determine my value. I didn’t realize I’d tied my self-worth to other people’s approval until I began questioning the standards I’d lived by for most of my life.

A weathered wooden measuring stick rests on a moss-covered stone wall while a mature woman walks toward a sunlit meadow of wildflowers. A falcon flies ahead in this painterly image symbolizing leaving behind inherited standards and discovering a new path.

Worth Measured by Others

Growing up in a patriarchal religion taught me that my worth came from outside of me. Proving my worth to my parents, community, and especially to god was one of the first lessons I learned.

The church and my family taught me that I must act in a certain way, follow the rules, and believe in the stipulated way to receive love and acceptance. I couldn’t make any mistakes, even those that come from being human and living life; otherwise I’d be shunned, punished, even denied god’s presence.

Society heaped guilt and shame on me—and any woman who didn’t meet its expectations. Especially if I chose to take a path other than the traditional one of getting married and having children.

This never appealed to me. I saw my mother and sister, who both married right out of high school, lose their identities. Their worth became tied to how many children they had, how good of housekeeper they were, and the church positions they held. In addition, they had to bow to the decisions of their husbands, even if they disagreed.

None of this sat well with me. I grew up in the late 60s and the 70s and watched the rise of feminism. This influenced what I wanted in my life. I wanted a career more than a family. Except, sometimes the Goddess has other ideas, and I became pregnant. Because I wasn’t married, and therefore I’d lost my value to be a “good Mormon wife,” the church excommunicated me. (Best day ever!)

Looking back, I can see that losing the church’s approval became the beginning of reclaiming my own. It also marked the beginning of trusting my own inner authority instead of allowing others to define my value.

A mature woman stands among golden birch trees with an embroidered Nordic cloak slipping from one shoulder to reveal a glowing amber pendant over her heart. A falcon watches nearby as the painterly scene symbolizes releasing inherited expectations and remembering her own worth.

Society’s Standards for Women

It wasn’t only in church that I learned I had to prove my value and worth. I soon realized a different set of rules applied to women. Society measures women’s value by our appearance, our productivity, the work we do, and whether we perform femininity in acceptable ways. While society judges everyone by these standards to some degree, women are expected to meet additional ones as well.

Women must appear and behave in certain ways to be deemed “attractive.” Most often, this standard of attractiveness is based on the male gaze, not on our personal preferences. If a woman is too friendly, she’s a slut. If she’s too reserved, she’s an uptight bitch. A woman wearing makeup cares too much about herself, while one who doesn’t wear any doesn’t care enough. I love the monologue in the Barbie movie. It totally describes the experience most women face—damned if you do, damned if you don’t. We can never meet the contradictory expectations a patriarchal society sets on us, and therefore, can never prove ourselves worthy or valuable within that system.

Appearance as a Measure of Worth

As a young woman, I learned that if I didn’t want my appearance judged harshly, I needed to wear makeup when in public. Like many women, I enjoy wearing makeup. I like how I look with it on. But is this my personal preference or conditioning? I didn’t know until I took the plunge to stop wearing it all the time. Those first few times when I left the house without makeup on took courage. I was extremely uncomfortable and terrified of how others perceived me. It took me a long time to comfortably go out in public without wearing any makeup. For the first time, I began asking whether I was living from my own values or from expectations I’d inherited without questioning.

Inside a sunlit stone sanctuary, handwritten pages, botanical sketches, an ink bottle, an amber pendant, and a falcon feather rest on a wooden writing desk. The painterly scene reflects creativity, meaningful work, and the reminder that our worth is greater than what we produce.

Intelligence, Work, and Worth

Appearance is only one way society measures a woman’s worth. I discovered that those additional standards extended to my intelligence and my work.

I learned early to hide my intelligence so that I didn’t outperform or outshine the boys in my class. They’d taunt and tease me, or even worse, pretend to like me, just so I’d give them the answers.

This continued into the workplace. I’ve experienced how often companies promoted mediocre men and held them in high esteem while shunting aside the women who excelled. As an accountant, I was more detail-oriented and could work circles around my male counterparts. Yet, my supervisors overlooked my abilities, discounted my skills, and underpaid me. It reinforced the belief that my value depended on constantly proving myself.

A mature woman approaches a simple woodland altar beneath an ancient oak tree, where amber beads, wildflowers, feathers, and a candle create a welcoming sacred space dedicated to Freya. The painterly scene conveys belonging, devotion, and an invitation into a living relationship with the Goddess.

Discovering Goddess Spirituality

By then, the measuring stick had followed me far beyond the church. Leaving organized religion didn’t mean I’d left all those beliefs about my worth behind. Even after leaving the church, I discovered how deeply patriarchal conditioning had shaped the way I saw myself. For years, I searched for another way to understand myself and my value.

When I discovered Goddess Spirituality, I realized what I’d been searching for was a spirituality that didn’t require me to prove myself. I didn’t need to earn the Goddess’s love or approval because neither had ever depended on my performance. Unlike with patriarchy, I don’t need to prove myself worthy to return to the Goddess’s presence. Her presence is always with me.

As my relationship with the Goddess deepened, so did my understanding of my own worth. While working with Freya, especially, I discovered my value and worth didn’t come from outside of me. The work I produced, the hours I put in, even the salary I earned, didn’t determine my value. My writing and other offerings have value because they serve other women. But my value doesn’t derive from my contributions. I don’t do this work to prove my worth—to myself, to my parents, the Goddess, or to anyone else. I do this work because I’m called to it and I enjoy it.

A mature woman wearing an amber pendant rests one hand on an ancient standing stone carved with a spiral and the other over her heart as the sun rises across a meadow of wildflowers. A falcon flies overhead in this painterly image of remembrance, inner knowing, and sacred worth.

Remembering My Sacred Worth

Little by little, I stopped measuring myself by someone else’s measuring stick and began seeing myself through the Goddess’s eyes instead of society’s.

The Goddess shows me that I am valuable and worthy simply for being me. I don’t have to do anything, or be anything other than myself, to be a valuable human. Inside of me lives a spark of the Divine. My worth is part of who I am.

That realization changed the way I approached every choice I made.

I find it extremely freeing to choose what I desire to do with my life based on whether it is right for me and makes my heart sing with joy. I no longer consider how others will judge me or my worth when I make choices. The Goddess Freya taught me that when I hold myself to my own standards instead of those imposed by others, I remember that my worth has always lived within me.

Looking back now, I can see that reclaiming my worth didn’t mean becoming someone different. It started with recognizing how many voices I’d allowed to define my value before I ever considered that they didn’t have that authority.

Freya didn’t teach me how to become worthy. She helped me remember that my worth had never been absent in the first place. Beneath every expectation, every achievement, every role I believed I had to fulfill, the Divine spark within me had never been measured, diminished, or taken away.

Perhaps that is what remembering really is.

Not becoming someone new, but returning to the truth waiting for me all along.

Sometimes we carry beliefs for so long that they feel like our own. We stop noticing the invisible standards we measure ourselves against because they’ve become part of the way we see the world. Perhaps these reflections offer a chance to pause with your own experience and notice what has been shaping your sense of worth—and what has always existed beneath it.

1. What expectations about being a “good woman” did you grow up with? Which of those still influence how you see yourself today?

2. Looking back over your life, can you remember a time when you chose what felt true for you, even if others didn’t understand or approve? What do you remember about that experience?

3. As you sit with this reflection, what part of yourself feels ready to be seen beyond the expectations, roles, or measuring sticks you’ve carried for so long?

Cover image of Freya’s Sacred Worth, an embodied devotional self-love practice featuring the Goddess Freya on a green and gold mandala background, part of the Goddess Remembrance Guides by Tora Moon.

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Continue Exploring with Freya

If something in this essay resonated with you, Freya’s Sacred Worth offers a way to continue the exploration through relationship and devotional practice.

Through time with Freya, the Guide invites you to explore worth beyond simply knowing you are worthy. You’ll consider how you value yourself, your gifts, your desires, and your inner knowing—and whose measures you may still be using to determine what is valuable.

There isn’t one right answer or a particular place you need to arrive. The Guide offers different ways to spend time with Freya, reflect on your own experience, and discover what becomes visible for you.