This has been tumbling in my head and heart (I guess) for a while now, but I never get around to writing it down because it drives me insane to sit down to write and feeling like my words make no sense. I really dislike not being able to do things, so being unable to fluently express my thoughts drives me up a wall. I think I’ve finally got it though. Sooooo
Subject matter: being enough/worthy/everything you need to be.
I’m sure, if you’ve been paying attention, you’ve stumbled upon Instagram posts or Facebook articles or random quotes in life about the importance of understanding that you are enough and that you matter exactly as you are in this exact moment forever to infinity.
I mean, I definitely have. I was a “being enough” inspiration connoisseur. I read blog posts and drooled over imagery and read incredible books by Cheryl Strayed and Brené Brown and talked myself into believing that I was confident and secure with myself.
I told myself that story repeatedly. I am enough, I am worthy of this life I lead, I don’t have to earn my keep. I ran it through my mind on repeat for quite some time.
Eventually, my brain bought it.
Then I continued living on as if I were an untouchable Queen of Enoughness living on my cloud of strength. That was fine and dandy.
Problem is: doubts and fears and insecurities still crept into my head and wreaked havoc on my heart.
I’d tell myself “your body is beautiful and healthy and societal standards are full of hot air.” Then I’d look at myself in the mirror after a hard day and feel so heartbroken that I didn’t look like the women that popped up on my Instagram. Toned, tanned, probably better people than me.
I’d tell myself, “the people in your life love you and care for you and want to help you.” Then, on a bad day, when doubts plagued me, another one would pile on and I’d force myself to believe that I was alone and unloveable.
I’d tell myself, “you are worthy of your accomplishments and the good way you feel today”. And suddenly a seemingly endless list of faults and mistakes would work its way through my mind. Rolling like an end credits in a movie.
I told myself everything I wanted to hear, and I still felt hurt. I told my brain, but something got lost when the message was supposed to move towards my heart.
I’ve spent a long time wondering why I felt so raw when I should’ve been so shielded.
And by no means, BY NO MEANS WHATSOEVER, have I mastered the solution.
I just think that acknowledging that I’m not a fortress is enough.
“Vulnerability is strength.”
None of us lead perfect lives and are unscathed by the world or our minds 100% of the time. We can strive to get that perfect score, but the pursuit of perfection will always just cause more strife and grief (amirite!?!?!?!).
Instead, we stumble and we rise. And each time, we gain a little more control over our own hearts. We find the room to give ourselves some more grace.
When it boils down to it, we all really need to be giving ourselves more grace.
“The truth is that falling hurts. The dare is to keep being brave and feel your way back up.”
So here I am, in my little honest space on the internet, sharing my own truth with you. This is my sweeping declaration that I no longer have to kick myself when I feel doubt. I no longer have to make myself feel worse when I’m feeling insecure.
And I will assuredly do those things anyway; a blog post is not the end all be all to life’s problems. But it’s a step.
One honest moment to you.