Swords Down: Learning to Be Loved for Who I Am, Not What I Achieve

What does it mean to be loved… to feel love... for more than what you do, but instead for who you are?

This past year, I listened closely, trying to hear the lesson God was teaching me. During a major life transition, I felt at war with myself—restless, anxious, uncertain, obsessively searching for my next calling. I assembled an army of support—my coach, therapist, the Mel Robbins podcast, and trusted advisors—preparing for battle, determined to fight my way toward something I couldn’t yet define, only feel. I was convinced this was a fight.

But what exactly was I fighting for?

For months, I wrestled with the unknown. Until finally, emotionally depleted, I had no choice but to put down my sword. Not in surrender, but in recognition—maybe this wasn’t meant to be a battle at all. What if, instead of struggling against the current, I allowed myself to flow with it? What if my purpose would find me—if only I remained open, attentive, and patient enough to recognize it when it appeared?

Then, last week, I paused my search for answers and stepped into something entirely different: my bachelorette trip planned by my sister.

In the weeks leading up to it, I felt more professionally lost than I ever had. The absence of purpose hit me like a physical blow. I thought I knew what my next chapter post-Edlyft would look like—but that wasn’t God’s plan. What I assumed would be a smooth transition turned out to be more turbulent than fundraising.

Who am I if not a founder? What value do I bring to the world? Where will I find alignment next? Who will truly value me?

My fight was fading.

Then came the invitation to release—to set the battle aside and simply be. To trust. To receive the love and joy waiting for me. So, I did.

Surrounded by my sisters and closest friends, I felt an overwhelming sense of love, joy, and gratitude. Each day of the trip, I was wrapped in warmth—not just from the stunning sun rays 🌅 (seriously, see pic above), but from something far deeper: the unshakable bond of sisterhood, the flood of love pouring in from the people who know me best.

What does it mean to be loved—not for what you do, but for who you are? 

I don’t think I fully understood the answer until this trip. Yes, I’ve always known love—my parents, siblings, fiancé, friends, and family have poured it into me for as long as I can remember. My life is full of it, and I’m endlessly grateful.

But until now, I hadn’t truly valued or prioritized that love the way I should have. I hadn’t fully appreciated the relationships and moments that give life its meaning.

This trip was a powerful reminder: My worth isn’t measured by what I achieve—it’s found in who I am. That realization was both deeply comforting and completely transformative.

I, Erika Alexandra Hairston, have always described myself as an ambitious woman—driven by a purpose to break barriers in tech. For years, I put my career above all else, determined to prove that women—that Black women—could build companies and innovations as impactful as the biggest names in history.

Let’s be honest: I idolized what white men have built in our society. Their power, their influence, their wealth—I craved that for people who look like me. I still do—but now, I see the sacrifices with clearer eyes. I also see the cracks in the foundations I once admired. Over the past year, I’ve lost so much respect for many of the so-called tech giants.

Yet, my ambition hasn’t wavered—I am still hell-bent on breaking barriers in tech. But I’m now far more intentional about why I’m doing it, who I choose to look up to, and what I’m truly striving for.

Last year, I redefined my vision of wealth after reading The Psychology of Money:

That definition struck me to my core. It led me to my personal mission: to empower more people to expand their capacity for joy in this life.

For so long, my why was singular: Become the role model I always wanted. I was hyper-focused on how others perceived my contributions, defining my worth through the lens of external validation. For a decade, I was congratulated for my achievements, praised for my hustle. I felt loved for what I did.

But after selling my company, that framework collapsed. The pressure of what’s next became crippling. I wasn’t just chasing the next milestone—I was chasing the impossible standard I had set for myself.

For months, I asked God for clarity. What lesson are You trying to teach me? I cried, I pivoted, I pushed forward—again and again—only to watch things unfold in ways I never expected. No matter how hard I tried, the path ahead remained uncertain.

But today, I hear His lesson loud and clear: To feel loved for who I am. To know my worth beyond achievements. To fully embrace the abundance of love already surrounding me.

Make no mistake—I will continue to be bold, ambitious, and break barriers. That part of me isn’t changing. But now, my why is no longer tied to external validation or an impossible standard. It’s anchored in something deeper: a feeling, a moment. The warmth 🌅, love, and pure joy I felt during my bachelorette trip with my sisters.

And now, my purpose is simple—to create that feeling, for myself and for others, as often as possible.

That is a life worth living.