When You Realize You’re Enough

There’s an underlying lie that permeates everyone’s lives. Even though each person’s lie is personal and tied to a unique event in their young life, these lies always “prove” that we’re not enough. It might whisper in your ear that you’re not smart enough, not rich enough, not talented enough, not pretty enough, not good enough, not  _______________ enough.

When you believe these lies over and over again, it reinforces how unworthy, unlovable, and unwanted you are. And there’s tons of evidence to support your beliefs, right? You weren’t invited to that party with your friends: unwanted. You didn’t get that job: not good enough.  You didn’t sell your novel: not talented enough. You get ghosted again and again and again: unlovable.

Soon the lie becomes the “truth,” so you self protect to keep your heart safe. It’s easier to keep believing the lie than to risk the truth and get hurt again. In “Dare to Lead,” Brene Brown defines living with a heart that allows love to come and go freely, an unarmored heart, as wholeheartedness. Wholeheartedness means “engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness… No matter what gets done and how much is left undone, I am enough.”

Living a wholehearted is my ultimate goal, but it takes vulnerability and work. I’ve spent years first believing, then uncovering the lies that have hovered over me and around me like a dirty gray fog of deceit. It’s whispered I’m not enough, I’m not wanted, I don’t belong, and I’m unlovable. And when I look at my life, there’s plenty of evidence to support that lie as truth.

While my head knows it’s not true, unconsciously my heart, from time to time, still gets convinced. When I give in and wallow in the lie, finding all the evidence for it to be true, that’s when I create my own pain and suffering.  But when I acknowledge the lie for what it is and focus on the truth that’s where acceptance, peace, and contentment are found.

I experienced this recently when I tried a musical theater class. Growing up, I was passionate about dance, but lies (and a lack of funds) kept me from really pursuing it. At 10 years old, I was chubby and self-conscious so when the older girls were whispering, I believed they were making fun of me. So I stopped dancing. At 15, I decided to try again. I wasn’t the worst in class, but neither was I the most skilled.  It was obvious that I couldn’t keep up with girls who had been dancing since they were little. I felt like a clumsy elephant in ballet slippers next to a bunch of graceful gazelles, so I stopped dancing again.

Twenty-five years later, I found swing and ballroom dancing, and the dream was awakened. It wasn’t easy to show up to dances, sit in a corner, and not be asked to dance. All those insecurities kept bubbling up. You’re not good enough, you’re not young enough,  no one wants to dance with you. But I stuck with it, took lessons, pushed myself out of my comfort zone, and got to know people who soon became friends.  As I improved and kept showing up, people got to know me and started asking me to dance.  Those lies faded into the background for a while.

Fast forward to this past Sunday. I took a musical theatre class and had such a fun and amazing time. I was challenged and felt confident on the dance floor especially with my recent weightloss. That night I couldn’t sleep from the excitement and pride as I watched the video of our class over and over again. No lies invaded my thoughts, just possibilities. The next day, I took a jazz class and my confidence crumbled. Insecurities from my teenage jazz classes flooded my mind. I struggled to do the drills the correct way. To get the technique and steps right. I couldn’t get the choreography quick enough. I felt awkward and unattractive as I danced. Such a 180 from the way I felt the day before. Where had my joy and confidence gone?

Even though I knew it was a lie, I couldn’t help feeling like I wasn’t good enough. I left deflated and questioning whether I had what it took to do better. Whether I wanted to return. That night in bed, my mind drifted to the two very different dance experiences. I thought about why one experience was more enjoyable than the other. That’s when I realized it was all in my expectations and perspective.

Being good enough to do a routine is not the same as being enough. Light bulb moment: I had the power to decide if I was good enough. While it’s true, I didn’t do the routine well enough, that didn’t determine my worth. I realized that I was the only one putting the pressure on me to be good enough and perfect. I was the only one who had the power to be proud of my accomplishments even though they fell short to the standards. I was the only one that could determine if I had fun by focusing on the process, not on the results.

Being present and enjoying life’s moments for what they are not for what I wish them to be is a lesson I seem to be learning over and over again because those lies go deep. However, every time I catch that lie and reveal it for what it is, the hold it has on me lessens and will one day disappear.

Tonight, whatever YOU accomplish or leave undone, I pray you sleep in peace remembering the words of Brene Brown, “yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable and sometimes afraid, but that doesn’t change the truth that I am brave and worthy of love and belonging.” 

I am enough. And so are you.