One could say that I’ve dedicated my life energies to searching for what would make me feel like I was enough, the secret answer to end the pining, longing, and misused life energy that I repeatedly invested in. Invested in over the concept of self-love, self-care, and self-compassion. Over anything even resembling embracing the worth that I have right now.
However, I am one of those people who carry a bag of intimate sentimental memories, kind words, devastating comments, and the grief and love each one of these mementos represent. They are proof I existed, that I’m here. I’m alive. I lived and I stayed. It isn’t easy for me to just be, be still, because the memories and talismans are everywhere. When these little bits of my life resurge to show me how far I’ve come, my heart grows full. Where I hold grief, I also hold love.
I once relied on these items to tell me who I was, or to reaffirm what I believed my identity was. It’s easier to let go of self-hatred when you let go of the pain of never being good enough.
As I reflect on self-growth and look for the map to get to where I want to be, one phrase keeps coming back to my mind, like a love song on repeat: You are enough.
You are enough.
You’ve always been enough. Though you feel like you aren’t and the tears are heavy. You are exactly enough. Enough to live, enough to laugh, to let your voice be heard—even by your own ears.
You are exactly enough to be loved and to love yourself. To feel beauty. To feel your heart, dreams, and desires. To hope and to be courageous.
I was enough the day that I had my traumatic brain injury and struggled to speak, write, and even think. I was enough when I attended the unexpected funeral of my mother, seventeen and sitting as far away from the casket as possible while I giggled with my friends. I was enough when I walked with my associate degree—while my forties raced closer—and slowly stepped proudly into the light.
Even through the panic attacks in the grocery store, the days that fatigue or depression tried to keep me in bed, the days I decided to live, and the days I didn’t want to anymore. Even the days I was making minimum wage, the three special days when babies were placed upon my heart, and the day I said goodbye to my tiniest dream or walked away from the seemingly biggest dream.
I am enough. And so are you. We are enough in this very second as we breathe in and out.
Thank you for trying.
Thank you for not giving up.
Thank you for existing.
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