Have you ever wonder what characters in the bible actually felt and their take on events. What they saw their divine purpose as not what modern society believes. Well, this autobiography was created by yours truly, based on the creative imagination if Leah actually had her own Bible book. This is Leah’s Story.
My birth took place in the land of Paddan-Aram, in the household of Laban, my father. I was born into a time when the patriarchs—Abraham, Isaac, and now Jacob—were chosen by God to establish His covenant with their descendants. My years were governed by the customs of my people, where marriages were arranged, and a woman’s worth was often measured by her ability to bear children. But I soon realised my Divine Purpose
I, Leah, am found in the book of Genesis (Chapters 29–30, 49:31), but my name is often spoken in whispers, as though my pain is not worthy of being fully told. My story is one that many women know too well—the story of being chosen out of duty, not love. A story of lying beside a man whose heart belongs to someone else. A story of rejection so brutal that even in my silence, my soul screamed for mercy.
Jacob, the son of Isaac and the grandson of Abraham, came to my father’s house in Haran, seeking shelter, seeking refuge—and seeking a wife. But not just any wife. He sought Rachel, my younger sister. Her beauty had captivated him, her presence had stolen his breath. And so, for seven long years, he labored with fire in his soul, waiting for the day he would call her his own. Seven years of devotion, of longing, of speaking of her as though no other woman in the world existed.
But on the night of the wedding, it was me who was given to him. Me, the woman no one longed for. Me, the daughter whose father had to deceive a man just to ensure she would be married. Wrapped in the heavy veils of custom, in the darkness of the wedding chamber, I became his wife.
I will not lie to you—the night was magical, having the softest words and promises being whispered in my ears, caressing my skin and fulfilling a void I hadn’t known even existed. Deep down I knew the words were not truly meant for me because he thought I was someone else. It still just felt nice to be wanted, needed and cherished, even if it was just for a single night. He whispered words into my ear that I had never heard before, held me in ways I had only dreamed of. For a brief moment, I was loved. I was wanted. But morning always comes. And when it did, so did the truth.
His rage was swift. His rejection, like iron to my chest.
“What have you done?” he demanded.
“I worked for Rachel! Not for you!”
My heart shattered as he stormed out without so much of a second glance. Head bent on seeking my father, fighting for the woman he worked seven long years for, for the woman he truly loved. I lay there, a used and discarded bride, my body bearing the weight of his affection from the night before, but my soul burdened by the realisation that it had never been meant for me.
Just imagine it, sisters. Imagine waking up next to the man you have called husband, only to see hatred in his eyes. Imagine hearing him speak of you not as his wife, not as his beloved, but as a mistake. A trick. Imagine knowing that the man you gave yourself to would never look at you with love, would never hold you without longing for another.
I know what it is like to be tolerated but never cherished. I know what it is to lay in a man’s arms and feel like a stranger, to hear him speak of another woman even as he shares my bed. As he dedicates more years for the woman his heart is set out for. To know that I am merely an obligation, a burden he must bear.
The house that once held the laughter of two sisters became a battlefield and a wedge was drawn between us. Rachel hated me for taking what she believed was hers, though it was never my choice. No more than it was hers. We, as women, do not have the luxury of picking and choosing whose bed we end up in, the honour is given to our fathers, and then our lives are then dictated by our husbands. I did not ask for this pain, yet it fell upon me like a curse. We were rivals in the cruelest of ways—not because we had chosen to be, but because one man’s heart could not love us both.
And yet, in all my sorrow, God saw me, God loves me for me. Only He knew the knew what lineage of mine would unfold from my sorrow,
He saw the tears I wept in the quiet of the night, the ache of being unwanted. He saw how I longed to be loved. And so, He opened my womb, giving me what Jacob would not—purpose, legacy, a place in His divine plan. I became the mother of Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, and Zebulun. And through my son Judah, a greater love story unfolded—the lineage of King David, and ultimately, the birth of the Messiah, Jesus Christ. Those men came from my womb. There was purpose in my pain, there was history being made with my sorrow.
My pain was never in vain.
To the woman reading this, I know your sorrow. I know what it feels like to be invisible in your own marriage. To watch your husband’s eyes drift to another with longing. To feel like your love will never be enough and know it to actually be true. But hear me—you are not forgotten. God sees you, just as He saw me.
I was never the most cherished wife, but I was chosen by God to bear the future. I was a vessel for His divine purpose. And though the world may not see your worth, God does. He has a plan for you, even in your pain.
You, like me, may never be the one they choose. But you, like me, are chosen by God. And that, my dear sister, is a love that will never forsake you.
I was unwanted by my husband, but wanted by God.
I was invisible to the man I called my own, but seen by the One who created me.
Jacob’s love never belonged to me, yet God’s favor rested upon me in abundance.
The moment I realised that I would never be enough for Jacob, I wept. I pleaded. I tried everything to make him see me. But no matter how many sons I bore, how many nights I spent in his arms, his heart was never mine to hold. Still, God did not abandon me. He saw my pain and opened my womb, blessing me with Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Issachar, and Zebulun (Genesis 29:31–35, 30:17–20). While Rachel was beautiful and beloved, I was fertile and favored by the Almighty.
Each time I bore a child, I thought, “Now, maybe he will love me. Maybe now, Jacob will see my worth.” But the love I yearned for never came. Instead, God gently whispered to my soul, “Daughter, your worth is not in a man’s love but in Mine.”
When my son Judah was born, I no longer sought Jacob’s approval. Instead, I said, “Now will I praise the Lord” (Genesis 29:35).
And that is when everything changed.
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I had spent years begging for Jacob’s love, when all along, God’s love was already mine. He had chosen me to carry the bloodline of kings, to bring forth the tribe from which David and ultimately the Messiah, Jesus Christ, would descend. Though Jacob would never love me the way he loved Rachel, God used my rejection as the foundation for redemption.
To the woman who feels unseen, who cries in the night over a man who barely acknowledges her presence—God sees you. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).
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I lived in a house where my very presence was a reminder of betrayal.
I shared my husband’s bed but not his love. I watched as he longed for another, giving Rachel the affections that would never be mine. I saw the way his eyes lit up when she entered the room, how his hands reached for her without hesitation—while my touch was tolerated, never desired.
And Rachel—my own sister, my own flesh and blood—she despised me. Though I never asked for this marriage, she resented me for it anyway. We were two women, bound by blood, yet torn apart by a man’s love.
It is a cruel thing, to be forced to fight for the affection of someone who never wanted you in the first place.
So I did what many women do when they are unloved—I tried to make myself indispensable.
“If I give him sons, he will love me.”
“If I make him a father, he will cherish me.”
“If I do enough, maybe I will be enough.”
But it was never enough.
Some of you know this pain. You have given everything—your time, your body, your love—to a man who still seeks someone else. You have exhausted yourself trying to be perfect, hoping that one day he will look at you and finally see you. But my sister, love should never be a battle you must fight alone. If he does not choose you willingly, you will never win his heart through effort alone.
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3).
God is the only one who can restore what has been broken within you.
For too long, I searched for love in Jacob’s arms, believing that his validation would complete me.
But then I realized something: Jacob was never my source of worth—God was.
Each time Jacob rejected me, God accepted me.
Each time my father used me, God restored me.
Each time Rachel resented me, God comforted me.
I learned that I did not need Jacob’s love to be fulfilled—I needed God’s purpose to be revealed in me. When my son Judah was born, something inside me changed. I no longer looked to Jacob with pleading eyes. I no longer begged for love that would never come. Instead, I lifted my voice and praised the Lord (Genesis 29:35).
I will not lie to you—the pain did not simply disappear. But when I shifted my focus from Jacob’s rejection to God’s selection, I began to walk in the confidence of my divine calling.
Sister, you were never meant to beg for love. You were not created to be an afterthought. If a man cannot see your worth, that is his blindness to bear, not your burden to carry. Do not live your life waiting for a man to choose you, when God has already called you His own.
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11).
I thought I was simply a rejected wife, a shadow cast behind my sister’s radiance.
But in God’s eyes, I was the mother of a nation.
Through my son Judah, the lineage of kings was established. Through my blood, the promise of a Messiah was fulfilled. My pain had purpose, even when I could not see it.
God used me not for Jacob’s sake, but for the sake of generations to come. My mission was greater than my suffering. And so is yours.
If you are in a marriage where you feel unloved, unseen, discarded—know that your purpose is not tied to a man’s affection. Your purpose is in God’s hands, and He will use you for something far greater than you can imagine.
“You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you” (Isaiah 43:4).
I lived in a household divided.
I was forced to share my husband’s heart with a woman who held the part of it I would never have. My father’s deception had bound me to a man who did not want me, and Rachel’s jealousy kept me in a war I never asked to fight.
I was never enough for Jacob. But I was more than enough for God.
My greatest challenge was not Rachel, nor my father, nor even Jacob—it was learning to believe that I was still valuable in the eyes of God.
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine” (Isaiah 43:1).
To the woman who has loved a man that will never love her back, hear me:
I was you.
I lived in the pain of rejection, in the torment of knowing that my love would never be returned. I was cast aside, ignored, used only when it was convenient.
But I am not just the unloved wife of Jacob.
I am the chosen daughter of the Almighty God.
I was not placed in Jacob’s life to win his love—I was placed in history to bring forth a legacy of kings, of warriors, of Christ Himself.
And you, sister, are not here to chase after someone who does not see your worth. You are here to fulfill God’s divine purpose in your life.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1).Stop waiting for a man to choose you. God has already chosen you.
Grab the full Autobiography with complete biblical history (click here)
Stay faithful, stay quirky, and stay writing.
With love and fire,
V.S. Beals
Writer. Watchwoman. Woman of the Word.
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