I Am Enough


It’s hard to think you’re enough in a world that’s constantly judging you, comparing you to your peers, and pushing unrealistic standards everywhere you look. I am only beginning to believe it myself. I spent such a long time thinking I needed to do something, accomplish something, before I would be good enough. Everyday that I failed to meet that standard, everyday that I wasn’t at peace, in love, independent, employed, I labeled myself “not good enough”. Those were most of my days, if not all of them. I’m beginning to see the flaws in my logic. They begin with a core idea of where worth or value comes from.

When you see an infant do you judge it as worthless if it doesn’t have a stable income and a life partner? No, of course not. But when someone is almost 30 it becomes increasingly expected of them to have their life in order. It’s not always within our power to be as self-sufficient as we would want. Life is full of unexpected hardships. I can give you excuses as to why I don’t have a car or a job right now, but I shouldn’t have to. When we begin to question when or why a person must fulfill certain prerequisites to be considered valuable or worthy of life and love we are already making a huge mistake.

I would argue that everyone is valuable perhaps just because it hurts to not be treated as valuable and we each have a conscious experience of life in which this feeling could be realized. For most of us inflicting pain on another being is undesirable because we have the understanding that their experience is in ways like our own, and most of us don’t like pain. Some people still think certain people are better than others based on such inane factors as their skin color, religion, or income. Whatever, they’re wrong, I’m not gonna go into it because any compassionate and well-informed person already knows they’re dead-ass-wrong.

Maybe an even more important argument is “Who the hell are we to judge what is valuable and worthy?” We are just another organic life form struggling through existence in a universe that defies our constant (arrogant) attempts to explain away it’s subtle nuances. If a cow told you that you were unworthy you would probably say “How the hell would a cow know what makes a human worthy?” and promptly butcher it for dinner. Well, how would Dianne know what makes Lola worthy? In Dianne’s world you get props for shiny hair and in Lola’s world it’s all about how many elk you can slaughter. (I don’t know why I’m suddenly referencing a lot of animal violence…)

In the end, it doesn’t help anyone become worthy or valuable to tell them they’re not. It took me years to realize that I could not hate myself into becoming someone I could love. Value is something that we assign to things and also something intrinsic. Like gold for instance: just a rock, but we value it over other rocks for whatever reason. We can choose to value ourselves and suddenly we become valuable. However, value is intrinsic in that everything is made of the same exploded star stuff and is all part of a whole that would be incomplete without even one particle.

I obviously am not the expert on this topic (just kind of thinking as I type) but I’ve found since I started telling myself “I’m already enough as I am, and I will only get enoughier”, I am a lot happier. So tell yourself:

I am worthy.

I am valuable.

I am enough.

And I will only get enoughier as I grow.


One Comment Add yours

  1. writingbolt says:

    We are all books in an ever-growing library. Many get ignored and dusty, perhaps because people judge them by their covers. Maybe our title is confusing or bland. Whether it’s a movie, a novel or a person, there always seem to be those that appear as best sellers and those that sadly get ignored. And then, there are those rare, joyous moments when a curious mind opens the dusty, plain hardcover tome and discovers a new world of possibility.

    Tragic is the life sentence of the ignored or slighted soul. How brown or yellow might their pages be when finally met by you or me?

    I think, sometimes, at least, we “judge” others–or sort out who is “worthy” of our space/time–with some primitive, instinctive survival brain. It’s a means of preserving oneself and, perhaps, a genetic code or breed. We instinctively may filter out those who threaten our way of living, thinking or even our general health. Sometimes, I suspect we even do it without consciously thinking; we take actions that equate choice, and certain faces drift out of reach.

    Yet, there are some I have met and lost that I often wonder about/wish would resurface. And, why is that? That brings up another horde of questions.


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