Good Enough

Do you ever feel not quite enough?  

I struggle with this feeling on and off at times; more so when stresses at work or home get me down.  I feel not quite good enough, as a general theme, but then it goes on from there.

I feel not quite smart enough in conversations that elude me.  Instead of just accepting that I don't find politics interesting and moving on when others have also moved on, I sit, ruminating about how I could me far more intelligent.  

I don't feel stylish enough.  Even when I relentlessly look at blogs that tell me just how to match my boho jean shorts with my wavy hair, I still feel frumpy, underdressed, like I'm trying too hard.  

I don't feel loveable enough. I'm moody and not entirely dependable...I beat myself up in blog posts, seemingly to illicit comments telling me how entirely loveable I actually am.  That isn't what this is about.  It's about being honest about how, at times, I feel...not enough.

Before I lived abroad, I didn't feel adventurous enough (how had I not seen Europe by my early twenties?!).  Hamilton was the safety zone and it was there I was going to stay.  

Now that I live abroad, I feel I don't go home enough.  I feel I don't spend enough time with those I love.  Feel as though I let them down. All. The. Time.

But recently, I had an eye-opening experience about various things that led to my feeling not quite enough.  Sadly, I found myself blaming other people for my own feelings of insecurity.  Strange that even at 31 years old, I can revert back to little girl mentality and point a finger quite easily. 

I had a very frank conversation about a horrific blog post written about me some years ago (both in 2006 and an update in 2010). 

I reverted back to what I've been taught growing up (because that allows me to blame someone else: my parents): she's an elder; she must have written it with love; she didn't mean anything by it; she has the right to say what she feels.

In the end, my conclusion from all of this was this: she must be right.

Now hold on a second!  Right?!  She's RIGHT?!  She can't be right.  She's spiteful, hateful, judgemental, and petty.  She took facts about me that were private, intertwined them with inferred, implied, and false information, and decorated it with insults.  This isn't what family (oh, I didn't mention she was family?) is supposed to do to one another!
  

And for the first time ever, someone said to me, "And what have you done about it?"  Many of you know about her blog post...many of you share in my disgust, but no one has ever asked me about the action I'll take. 

Well, if you know me well, you'll know I'm awfully passive when it comes to actually taking action.  When confronted, I'm quick to cry, and need a lot of time to process (and sometimes even plan) what I will say to adequately explain my feelings.  "Not quite enough" at work again.  So the action has been small, but final: The Facebook Block.  Hey, you gotta start somewhere, right?

I'm trying my best to feel the way I want to feel: to stand up for myself and to say what's on my mind.  At the same time, I'm very aware that the adjectives I finally used to describe the writer of that infamous blog post (spiteful, hateful, judgemental, and petty) just can't be words that will describe me.  

I just now read an expression that I love love love (from my friend Tommy Westhall, who I knew in Korea):

I will no longer be a slave to my own weaknesses.  

What an empowering sentence!  I think this might serve as my new mantra.

 I'm just back from a fabulous vacation and don't start work for another week and a half, so at present, I feel amazing.  However, I thought I'd share this in the hopes that when these feelings creep back in, I can remind myself that it's a fleeting emotion.

Pictures are mine, taken Friday in Neal's Yard and surrounding.