I sat way up in the balcony at church a few weeks ago as an acquaintance rose to speak. Her contribution to the Sunday worship service was not planned, so there was no way to know she’d tell her story. But I’m glad she did. I found myself relating to life events and feelings she described which I would never have guessed she struggled with. I always thought she had her stuff together, if anyone did.

Me, on the other hand—well, whew! Like her, I experience self-doubt. I lack confidence. I struggle with self-esteem, feeling unworthy, inadequate, damaged. I’m not good enough. I don’t matter.

I do care. But what can little-old-me do to make a difference? Is there any point to trying?

This woman, a friend, a fellow mom who struggles still with an imperfect family—like me in so many ways—has the same feelings I do. The thought captivated me. I never would have guessed her history. I only know my own.

But her message reminded me of an important lesson I have learned and re-learned over the years. How I view myself is unlikely to be the same as how others view me.

I tell myself this often to bolster my courage, or to get out in the world, sometimes even to make a phone call. When I am down or I feel discouraged about a turn of events, when hopelessness creeps in and all I want to do is crawl into my friendly office and hide, that’s a good time to remember that how I feel about myself is not what others may feel. They may see me quite differently than I see myself. After all we wear many hats.

Perhaps it’s normal to think everyone feels what I feel and thinks what I think. But in reality, we all see the world—and each other—from our own unique perspectives. It’s the gift of a writer to help us see the world from other perspectives.

When we are able to do that, hope can be re-born. I may be one insignificant human in a sea of billions, but that shouldn’t discourage me from taking a stand on issues that matter. Though I feel inadequate and unsure of myself, I never know who else may be watching.