I check my Facebook page often... Okay, way too often. Don't you? I changed my cover photo a couple days ago, and now every time that I open my page up, I see a hand stretched out in front of a person's face and written on her palm are the words, "YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH." Ever single time I read the words, there's a part of my heart that beats a little faster.
It's a question I've asked often over my twenty-three years... Not that I had the worst childhood, but there were parts that were incredibly difficult. One thing that has consistently lacked for many of my days is a legitimately good and healthy relationship with my parents. My dad was 21 and my mother was 20 when I, an eight pound, thirteen ounce baby girl was delivered into their world. I can only imagine the thoughts that went through their mind, "What the heck are we supposed to do with this?" I know that is probably what I would think as a 20 year old. They had been married a short 13 months before I changed their entire world. I obviously do not remember the first couple years of my life, and by that time, my little sister had arrived. Shortly thereafter, I was five years old, and then came my baby sister. She was born on March 4th, and came home from the hospital on my fifth birthday, March 7th. I remember the drive home in our long blue car with hot cloth seats. I did not want her to come home with us. Primarily because my mother told me that she was my birthday present. Who wants a live, crying baby for their birthday? Um, not me. (Fortunately, when we got home, some sweet friends had brought a Barney backpack to me for my birthday...and I loved it.)
A few years after my baby sister came home, my mother began to struggle emotionally. She was depressed most every day and her involvement in our lives became more difficult because of how she felt. Although I think she still loved us a lot, she distanced from us. As a kiddo, I just thought that if I could do something more and act more grown up, that it would make her happy. Often, it did make her proud of me. (And other adults in my life always complimented me because of how grown up I acted...so I just kept it up.) I did it so that my mom would be happy and spend time with us. If there was one thing my mother loved, it was a stunningly clean and meticulously organized house. Still does! But, when it didn't always work; when clean didn't always make her happy, she stayed depressed...and distant. So, I worked harder... and the lesson I learned (whether my mother thought this way or not...) was that I simply wasn't good enough; that I couldn't do enough for her to be happy. There was nothing that I could do to make her smile at me and spend more time with me. So, I stopped trying and I just internalized that lie..."You are not good enough."
We all have our stories. We all have those thoughts that are destructive. We all have lies that we have believed. And acknowledging that it is indeed a lie, doesn't necessarily mean you stop believing it. It takes a lot of work to disable the lie that becomes lodged as truth in your heart. I'm too much. I'm not good enough. You don't really love me. If only I was prettier. If only I was thinner. I should be smarter than this. Did I mention, I'm too much.?
I have believed and still believe at times, all of those lies. It's a process to replace a lie with the truth.
We all struggle and we struggle because of various things. Remember that you have a story, and be aware of the people around you. They have stories, too. They have tough stuff that has happened to them in their lifetime. Be compassionate and patient.
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