Am I a Commodity or a Contributor? Wrestling with Value, Faith, and Acceptance in a Performative Society

Introduction

There are moments in life when you stop and ask yourself: Where is my energy going? Am I putting time into relationships, organizations, and affiliations that truly bear fruit—or am I simply fulfilling others’ expectations at the expense of my own growth?

This reflection isn’t about complaining; it’s about asking hard questions. It’s about wondering whether people see me as a whole person, or just as a tool—a vacuum cleaner pulled out when needed, a Swiss Army knife left in a drawer until convenient, or a microwave for fast results. It’s about wrestling with whether life is transactional or transformational.

Commodity vs. Contributor

Many of us know what it feels like to be useful but unseen. Your skills are recognized, but your soul is neglected. People clap for the outcomes but rarely invest in the person behind them.

The hard truth is that when people see you as a commodity, your worth becomes tied only to your production. You get the accolades, but not the action.

You get the respect in words, but not the respect in presence.

That’s the paradox: you can be honored but still unseen.

Transactional or Transformational?

Our culture thrives on transactions. Work hard, get noticed. Do well, receive accolades. Perform, and you’re accepted. Don’t perform, and you’re invisible.

But deep relationships are not transactional; they’re transformational. They leave you changed, supported, and nourished. And here lies the filter: before giving time, energy, or loyalty, ask—Will this leave me whole, or will it leave me empty?

Family, Faith, and the “What’s Left?” Question

The Bible teaches us that our first loyalties are to God and family. But what happens when you’ve already fulfilled the basics?

When your children are provided for, your spouse is supported, and you’ve built stability—what comes next?

Society tells us to chase career advancement, prestige, or wealth under the banner of “providing for family.” But sometimes that chase is more about acceptance and less about provision. It’s about being seen as successful rather than truly serving those closest to us.

The question shifts from Am I providing? to Am I growing spiritually, emotionally, and relationally?

The Performance Trap

I realized something unsettling: I’ve been chasing acceptance most of my life. School taught me that grades equal validation. Sports taught me that performance opens doors. Work taught me that productivity gets recognition.

Everything has been about performance. And performance creates a cycle where you’re constantly doing in order to be seen, rather than being in order to be whole.

That’s the danger of a performative society—it breeds burnout, disconnection, and spiritual emptiness.

Silence, Rest, and Prayer

One of my greatest struggles is silence. I know how to pray, but I don’t always know how to rest in prayer. I can fill my mind with tasks, ideas, or responsibilities, but being still feels unnatural.

Yet silence is where we are reminded that God values us not for what we do, but for who we are. Even short, consistent moments of quiet can reconnect us to His presence more than hours of distracted performance.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

I’ve been told, “You do too much.” And maybe that’s true. But I also recognize the pain of being out of sight, out of mind. If I stop producing, stop showing up, stop proving myself—will people still value me?

This is the crux of the contradiction: I know I need to guard my energy and give less to transactional spaces, but I also want to believe my efforts matter. It’s the tension of being both giver and seeker.

Living the Honest Contradiction

Here’s what I’ve come to accept: I am an honest contradiction. I give more than I should, I seek more acceptance than I admit, and I wrestle with wanting transformation in a transactional world.

But maybe honesty is the first step. Admitting the contradiction means I no longer have to hide it. It means I can start integrating both sides—faithful servant and weary contributor, strong leader and vulnerable seeker.

Closing Reflection

If you’re reading this and see yourself in my words, maybe you’ve been wrestling too. Maybe you’ve asked: Am I being valued for who I am, or just for what I do?

Here’s what I’m learning:

• I must guard my energy.

• Filter my commitments.

• Put God first, family next, and let everything else fall into its rightful place.

• Don’t mistake applause for love, or accolades for belonging.

• At the end of the day, I am are not a commodity—I am a child of God. Intrinsically and personally that is my true value.