Tag: prove

Why I Stopped Measuring My Self-Worth and Trying to Prove Myself

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anyone.” ~Maya Angelou

How do you measure your self-worth? By the salary you make each year? By the length of your resume? By the number of people who follow you on social media?

Now what if you never had to measure your self-worth again? That is what I want to do.

I grew up as a gifted kid with high expectations to boot, always pushing myself to meet them. I earned the best grades I could, secured a full-ride scholarship to a local university, and soon enough ended up at one of the top law schools in the country.

Thanks to all the achievements, my self-worth was high. I believed I was outshining my peers, boosting my ego. I felt safe in this comfort zone I’d created.

Law school drastically changed my perspective of the world. My peer group became some of the smartest and most talented people in the country. I tried competing against them to prove myself, but I struggled more than ever to stand out and feel accomplished.

In just a few months, my ego began crumbling apart, taking my once lofty feelings of worth down with it. I was out of my comfort zone and felt invisible.

I turned to strangers online in an attempt to put the pieces back together and resurrect my worth. I relied heavily on social media to put myself out there for superficial likes and comments. I turned lifelong hobbies into side hustles, trading content I cared about for bits of validation here and there.

I was desperate to find some new measure of success on which I could rely. But I never noticed the damage that desperation was doing to my psyche until it had already taken its toll.

My ego had protected me for so long from doubt that as soon as it was gone, I never felt good enough. Once I believed I was a failure, I only kept confirming my demoralizing feelings by pushing myself to excel immediately in new areas. I compared myself to the best of the best and treated myself like the worst of the worst.

I was trapped in a downward spiral leading to worthlessness. It was only when I slowed down to reflect on my mental health that I realized my life looked like an endless rat race to find some proverbial cheese. I strained to earn my worth and ended up empty-handed.

If you always chase after self-worth, you never stop to see if you have found any.

How is it so many of us believe our worth is conditional? I believe it is a long, grueling process.

Many of us learned growing up to associate self-worth with achievement of some kind. As we discovered authority figures gave us the most positive feedback and attention when we were doing a great job, we linked our worth to excelling. Without that encouragement, we were lost.

The world around us exploits this correlation on a daily basis. To some extent, it makes the world go round.

Western culture, in particular, thrives on permanently tying worth to achievement: the more people pursue success in what they do, the more productive they are and the more money that flows. Accordingly, society constantly tries to push the idea that hard work is sacred and will ultimately lead us to a life of achievement, ergo worth.

Western culture does not reward those happy to just be. Instead, we are expected to keep laboring away until we can do something well. Even then, some types of work are highly valued over others, so we have to find the right work to do just to get by.

So, if you do not feel happy and fulfilled, do you not just have to work harder?

Yet, not all hard workers reap the benefits. After all, achievement requires meeting a certain standard, inevitably doing better than someone else. Only significant time and effort may lead to a worthy triumph.

There will inevitably be haves and have-nots because the system at play rewards a limited number of people who play the system best, who achieve the most success. The more limited the rewards, the more everyone forces themselves to try harder day in and day out.

Unfortunately for us, the reward is merely the validation we apparently need to go about our lives. If our worth is dependent solely on our achievements, we have no choice but to compete with one another over a limited, essential resource. Achievements are only as valuable as they are rare.

But this competition cannot be won. There will always be more to do. And someone will always do more.

External validation never makes you content. It only keeps you hungry for more.

In my struggles, I have had a difficult time understanding how to view my worth.

How much worth do I have? How does it compare to other people’s worth? Does it go up and down?

When am I finally worthy once and for all?

To answer these questions, I vehemently tried to attach a number to my worth whenever possible. After all, a number is a concrete, self-explanatory concept. I could tell when I had more or less than someone.

Thus, using numbers allowed me to measure my worth and other people’s worth with ease. This gave me a way to understand my place in the world.

Using numbers also allowed me to gauge how my worth was changing. For example, if I received more likes than usual, I was happier than usual since I must have been doing something right. If I received less, I was in need of quick improvement.

Except numbers are hollow. They have no value unless we agree to give them value, but our obsessive nature often gives extraordinary value to the benign.

We use shortcuts like numbers to explain concepts we have a hard time comprehending. Self-worth certainly seems to be one of those trying concepts, always just out of reach like an elusive fruit hanging above us or a receding pool of water.

Breaking away from society’s expectations provided me the room to realize self-worth is only as complicated as I make it.

If self-worth need not exist conditionally, it can exist inherently. In fact, it exists now without exception.

Your worth cannot be assigned a value. It simply is.

By virtue of the fact that you are alive, you are just as worthy as anyone else who has lived before, lives now, or will live after.

We all come into the world the same, and we all leave the same way. Our lives may differ widely in content, but not in value. Nothing separates us at the most fundamental level.

And none of us start out deficient in worth. We need not go on a lifelong journey to earn our worth by moving up in the world. Our worth remains steadfast regardless of how our lives take shape.

Work does not shape our worth. No matter how you decide to share your skills and talents, the world will be better off, even if you alone trust the value in what you do and who you are.

Society may try to tell us how we should view and feel about ourselves, but we are not obligated to listen. Fighting those ingrained ideas of what others think we should do is never an easy battle, but it is worth the independence.

No matter how one does or does not measure worth, it does not vary, and it does not waver.

We are all enough as is, right now.

There exist millions of ways to compare ourselves to others, but we owe it to ourselves to make light of differences and revel in our shared humanity.

So how do we move forward knowing that we cannot improve or reduce our worth?

Well, the possibilities are endless. The doors open up to a life where you can be you unabashedly. And more importantly, you can be a part of something bigger than yourself without feeling small.

Waiting for others to prove you are worthy is time better spent sharing your true self.

After spending the last few years of my life trying to prove myself without ever reaching the level of success I wanted, I realized my definition of success kept changing until I made it impossible to feel fulfilled. I stopped myself from being happy unless I was universally revered.

I lived thoughtlessly, spending what free time I had attempting to make myself look accomplished rather than enjoying the time. I conformed to what I thought people would like rather than let myself flourish.

My true self was suffocated. Receiving even the most primitive criticism felt like being stabbed in the chest. I was more distanced from others than ever before because I did not feel like I deserved to be liked anymore.

But I do deserve to be me, to take up space, to contribute to the world in my own way. And you do too.

Knowing that what you do cannot change who you are promotes freedom in how you want to live, freedom not just from others, but also from expectations and doubt.

Knowing you always have worth allows you to connect with the people around you more deeply, empathize with them, and support their journeys through life.

It is with this knowledge you can find and share true joy.

You can pursue what you love instead of what you feel you ought to do. You can work at your pace to be the person you want to be. You can stay present knowing neither praise nor disapproval affects your worth.

Many will struggle to agree with you, though, that you can exist in peace without having to fight to prove your value. Even I still struggle to keep not just naysayers, but also my inner, learned uncertainties at bay in regard to whether I offer anything worthwhile.

Learning more about your inherent worth means unlearning those harsh, ingrained principles of life as we have known it. These principles will never fade away completely, but we can make a choice every day to drown them out.

Take it from me, your life will not immediately change in discovering your own worth, but it can improve a little day after day the more you take your discovery to heart. As is the case with any transition, there will be ups and downs. I still have doubts creeping in when I least expect them.

But the more you live openly and share yourself with others, the more those principles will take hold and the stronger you will be in challenging what life throws your way. Instead of seeking achievement and improvement, you will be content, one with the universe.

You will be free.

November 30, 2021
It’s More Important to Be Authentic Than Impressive

“The most fundamental harm we can do to ourselves is to remain ignorant by not having the courage to look at ourselves honestly and gently.” ~Pema Chödrön

All my life I’ve chased after success, as I was encouraged to do from a very young age.

When I was six, my father got me my first proper study desk as a gift for getting into a ‘good’ school. The type of desk that towered over a little six-year-old—complete with bookshelves and an in-built fluorescent light. In the middle of the shelf frame stuck a white sticky label inscribed with my father’s own handwriting in two languages. It read: “Work hard for better progress.”

Little did I know those words would set the tone for me and my work ethic for the next twenty years—until I finally began to question them.

Hard work became my ‘safe space’ whenever I felt insecure. When I struggled to make friends at a new school, felt rejected, or felt like I didn’t belong, I would put my head down and drown out my emotions out by working hard. It became my coping strategy.

My younger self didn’t yet have the emotional resources to deal with moving around, changing schools, and facing social rejection. When it became too painful, it was much easier to stay in my head than to feel vulnerable with my heart.

So, whenever I struggled to fit in at school, I just worked harder with the misguided belief that if I did well, then I would be celebrated. If I became impressive, then people would finally accept and like me.

And of course, my parents encouraged this behavior. I was rewarded for my hard work and I got good results for it too.

But outside of my home, nobody seemed to care about my results. I still wasn’t fitting in at school. I still didn’t have many friends. My strategy didn’t seem to be working.

So I worked even harder.

By the time I graduated from University, I had completely bought into society’s definition of being ‘impressive’ without even questioning it once. If it was a prize everyone wanted, I wanted it too.

My definition of being ‘impressive’ expanded to include looking good, dressing well, staying fit, and making good money in a highly-competitive field, even if I had zero passion for that profession.

By then, I’d long forgotten the reasons why I wanted to work hard to be impressive in the first place, other than “That’s just who I am.”

I was drifting further and further away from my true self, and I didn’t even know it.

For the next ten years, I spent a lot of my waking hours working as a financial analyst, studying for more degrees and certification, and chasing after the next shiny thing so I could sound even more impressive to others. Plus, I was making a decent income while doing so. Tick.

While on the surface I ticked a lot of those “impressive” boxes I had set out for myself, on the inside I felt emptier than ever. On the outside I looked successful, but on the inside, I felt like a complete failure.

What Happens When Your True Self Calls You to Come Back

Cracks started to emerge both in my work and in myself. It became challenging to fully show up for work as I increasingly asked myself: “What am I doing here?”

A soft inner voice whispered, “It’s time to get out of here, you’re not meant to be in finance. What are you doing here?” So I began questioning what I was doing with my life. I mean, if not that, what was I meant to do? I’d invested so much of my time and energy into my profession; I couldn’t just change directions. And who was this voice anyway? Where was it coming from?

My fake enthusiasm became harder and harder to keep up. This sinking feeling became more visceral by the day, and the feeling of not belonging in my workplace became increasingly obvious.

Yet I swallowed those feelings down with gritted teeth and kept pushing. Because what else was I meant to do if not keep persisting?

When I suddenly got fired it was an abrupt wakeup call. I needed to challenge everything I believed in and confront those big questions I’d put off answering for so long: “Who am I really?” and “What am I really about?”

What I Learned Through My Four-Year Journey of Self-Discovery

I spent the next couple of years immersing myself in a whole range of subjects that covered different angles on self-knowledge, in an attempt to answer the question “Who am I?”

For most of my seeking, I was still trying to find answers as if they resided outside of me. I was still trying to find where I belonged professionally.

But what started as a business journey quickly morphed into an inner-transformational journey that became deeply personal.

This deep inner work allowed me to reconnect to my internal guidance system and my true self once more.

Through this process I was able to take a good look at myself, confront my shadow side, heal my wounds of rejection, and forgive everyone involved, including myself.

As I’ve come home to my true self, I’ve realized a few things about the cost of chasing impressiveness:

When we chase after something external, we lose self-connection.

When I heard that soft, loving voice inside my head, it was a small glimpse of spiritual awakening. It was a momentary connection to my inner mentor’s light that seeped through my deep dark fog of disconnection.

We all have our own inner mentor, but we have choose to listen to it instead of trying to be who we think we’re supposed to be.

When we trust others more than we trust ourselves, we can end up giving our personal power away.

If we believe that the answers we seek lie outside of ourselves, we can forget to check in to see what’s true for us each individually. The more weight we put on other people’s opinions, the less we trust our own inner knowing.

People can only speak to what they know based on their own perspective, background, and life experiences. When we allow other people’s opinions to overpower the choices our true selves would otherwise make, we end up giving away our personal power.

I’ve found that it doesn’t matter how many well-meaning opinions we get; we need to find what resonates with us the most by checking in with our inner authority—which means going against what we learned growing up, when we were trained to ignore our inner voice and do what we were told.

The pursuit of ‘impressiveness’ is a hunger that can never be satisfied.

When we keep chasing after ‘impressiveness,’ we are in fact on a hedonic treadmill of always wanting more. As soon as we achieve one thing, we fixate on the next. We keep wanting bigger, better, and more.

As soon as we attain or do something, suddenly what we have isn’t good enough anymore, and so we must now keep up. We fall into the comparison trap. The external goalpost keeps moving. We keep looking over our shoulders to see how we’re tracking against everyone, and it becomes a tireless pursuit of keeping up with the Joneses with no real end in sight.

Every ‘win’ is temporary.

We mistakenly see ‘impressiveness’ as proof that we’re worthy of love.

When we chase after ‘impressiveness’ we’re really chasing after validation, approval, and a sense of belonging. We think, “If I can be impressive then I can be accepted.” We want others to look up to us, praise us, and ultimately, love us.

However, the pursuit gets dangerous when we buy into the false belief that we have to work hard in order to prove we are worthy of love; that we need to become ‘impressive’ through our accomplishments and produce tangible proof of our worthiness.

I’ve noticed that a lot of high achievers, like myself, have bought into this belief, possibly due to the achievement-oriented upbringing we were exposed to from a very young age.

The danger is that it can become an acquisition addiction, and an arms race to get more degrees, more cars, more houses, more shoes, more toys, and so on.

We can become addicted to buying ‘cool’ things to impress other people, or work ourselves to the bone just to get those long lists of accolades instead of recognizing that we are inherently worthy of love. Regardless of what we have or have achieved.

We risk losing our individuality.

When we chase after external validation and approval, we compromise who we really are in exchange for more respect, more likes, more kudos from our peers. We showcase a more curated, ‘acceptable’ version of ourselves to the world, and we hide other parts of ourselves that we think might be rejected by others. Even worse, we end up chasing after things we don’t even really want.

Some of us inherit strong beliefs about what ‘success’ means and some of us strive toward pre-approved categories of impressiveness as defined by society, without checking in once to see whether these pathways to ‘success’ fit in with our true selves.

In the end, we lose our individuality—the essence of who we really are.

It requires self-connection to recognize what is true for us versus what is conditioned into us. It requires even more courage to step outside of these pre-approved paths to ‘impressiveness’ and live a life that aligns with our true selves.

How to Reclaim Your Authentic Self

I’ve discovered that breaking free from the illusion of ‘impressiveness’ and reclaiming your true self is really a constant two-step dance between recognition and courage.

1. Recognition

To reclaim your authentic self you have to recognize that you have disconnected from who you really are in the first place. Your achievements, your accomplishments, all the cool stuff that you own, and even your toned physique—they’re not who you really are.

2. Courage to be your true self

We have to have courage to stand in our truth and be our authentic selves. Recognition alone is not enough. For many of us, it’s the fear of disapproval that holds us back from stepping out of those curated, pre-approved categories that we have created for ourselves, and fully owning who we are, in all our beautiful, strange glory.

My wish is that this becomes your permission slip to fully step into who you really are and own it. Being your true self requires tremendous courage, but it’s worth it. And having the courage to fully embrace your true individuality in all its quirkiness? That’s impressive.

August 5, 2019
You Don’t Have to Prove Yourself to Anyone

February 13, 2016
Sharing Yourself Without Worrying About Being Accepted

“Happiness is really a deep harmonious inner satisfaction and approval.” ~Francis Wilshire

Acceptance.

This is a word we often toss around, but what does it truly mean? Perhaps the meaning of it ultimately resides within its beholder. I know I have certainly achieved my own understanding of what acceptance means to me and for me, and so far, this definition is ever evolving.

On November 6, 2013, I returned to the United States after having lived in Australia for two and a half years. I spent the majority of my time there studying and practicing yoga and teaching yoga and meditation.

As a teacher, I had to face my attachment to the experience my students had or did not have. I feared that I would not be good enough, that somehow they would find fault in my delivery, and that I would ultimately not be accepted.

Now, let’s be clear, this fear was no new fear. It had haunted me all my life. Becoming a yoga and meditation teacher was just one of the divine blessings that brought this fear to the surface for me to clear and overcome, like nothing had been able to before it.

At the end of last year, I traveled to the Oneness University in India. For thirty-one days we went through many classes, ancient rituals, and ceremonies, and had an abundance of time and opportunity to see ourselves clearly.

The monks lovingly guided us to look at our unconscious fear, pain, suffering, and inauthentic actions.

This was extremely confronting, because most of us had no idea we were operating on a level of such fear.

After that, I went back to Australia and spent the next five months falling apart as I became aware of so much inner dissatisfaction and disapproval. Holy Moly! I sometimes wondered if I’d ever come through it.

During this time, I did some coaching with a woman named Jaxin Brooke. In our initial consultation, it became clear how much I longed to feel like I fit somewhere, like I belonged, like I was completely accepted.

She helped me see how I had been going about this with external efforts; I thought if I could up my career game, or perhaps if I moved back to America, or got married, then maybe I would “fit in.”

The truth was, I suffered from internal rejection and an inability to feel like what I was offering, who I was, and where I was at in my life were good enough.

Awareness is the most effective tool for helping me shift from fear to love, from criticism to compassion, and from conditional to unconditional love.

Awakening begins with seeing.

Once I become aware of the way I am currently operating—meaning I can see the inner critic, the judgments, the fear, and the stories—the awareness alone brings light to the darkness or consciousness to the unconscious. This brings about an automatic shift in perception. So for me, inner satisfaction and approval depend on my level of inner awareness.

Between working with Jaxin and watching a TED talk by Brené Brown on vulnerability, I began to experience a profound shift. There was a specific message that I received, and that message was this:

“Acceptance comes as a result of sharing what’s in our hearts, regardless of the outcome.”

It clicked. I understood that acceptance was no one else’s responsibility. It was my own. The first step toward it was vulnerability. Vulnerability is courageous. Courage comes from the Latin word cor, which means heart.

I began to share what was in my heart, regardless of the outcome, in my classes, with my boyfriend, with my clients, with my friends, in my articles, and I began to experience something beautiful.

Showing up and sharing was no longer about the feedback or responses I got from others. It was about me doing my part. It was about showing up as the best version of myself, without hiding the things I assumed other people wouldn’t love.

I began to apply this into my daily life as a spiritual practice. I began to give fully, to speak my truth openly, to share what was in my heart each day, regardless of the outcome, and I experienced the joy of connecting with people like never before.

I was no longer trying to be perfect, but rather letting them see me exactly the way I was.

I was finally able to see my boyfriend through loving eyes, becoming aware of everything that was awesome about him instead of picking out what was wrong about him.

I was able to share, personally and professionally, from a place of authenticity and vulnerability. I was no longer taking responsibility for what others did or did not get from my sharing, because I knew my only job was to generously and unconditionally give what sat in my heart and to surrender the rest.

As a result, my relationships became even more powerful, even more mutually nourishing, and even more effective.

Everything began to flow in abundant ways after this awareness blossomed within me, which has been a huge help for me now that I am back in the U.S. and spending time with family.

Our loved ones have the ability to show us our deepest, darkest corners of insecurity, self-judgments, and inner disapproval.

As a result, we typically end up pointing the finger at them and complaining about how imperfect they are. This trip home has been different for me than trips in the past.

I have always assumed my family thinks certain things, that they judge me, or are disappointed in me for not being what they may have wanted me to be.

Now, however, when I see myself in conversations with them and the old programs come up, telling these stories of their disapproval of me, in that moment I can soften. I can recognize the pain that is present in us all in that moment. I can have compassion for them and myself.

I can reaffirm that I know who I am, I know what I’ve achieved in my life, and I know what amazing things I am up to; and therefore, I don’t have to demand their approval.

I can consciously choose to let go of the old stories, the boxes I have put us in, the need to prove anything, and instead I can re-examine things with fresh eyes that have only one goal: to love myself and them.

Even if my assumptions about my family were right, which is unlikely, with inner satisfaction and approval, I can still be happy and okay in the face of other people who may think, feel, and see things differently than I do.

Awareness is what opens the pair of internal eyes that we need to see what is going on onside of us. Awareness will shine the inner flashlight on the internal fear and criticism. It will show us where we are currently operating and offer us the opportunity to upgrade.

I am not inviting you to fix or change yourself. I simply invite you to turn on the flashlight within and see what happens. I invite you to become willing to surrender to the process that will follow such awareness, and to stay committed to your intention to accept yourself and others.

Photo by Jennifer Graevell

April 9, 2014
You Are Good Enough and You Have Nothing to Prove

“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anyone.” ~Maya Angelou

I sat on a big, cold stone on the beach next to Lake Ontario and watched as the waves lapped upon the shore.

To my right, there were swans and ducks floating on the water. The swans were graceful and beautiful as they glided along the shoreline, and the ducks were being their usual kooky selves.

It always made me laugh to watch them dive underwater, kick their webbed feet in the air, and wag their feathered bums back and forth. They were so natural, so unaware of my presence, so carefree.

I admired them for their untroubled lives and yearned for what they had—the complete and total lack of care for what I thought of them.

To my left in the distance, I saw the CN tower and the surrounding high rises of Toronto. I was in college studying acting for film and television, which had always been my dream.

But now, sitting next to the vast open water under the clear skies and watching as the waves slowly rolled up and receded, breathing in the fresh air, I realized this was the most content and peaceful I’d felt in weeks.

All of my life, I wanted to be an actress. I wanted to see my face on the big screen, my name credited in large, bold letters; to be a guest on talk shows and able to meet all of the successful actors I admired.

I wanted to be someone who was noticed, praised, respected, and looked up to. I wanted to be special.

I also loved the craft of acting itself and thought that connecting with other people was so beautiful. But since coming to college four months ago, all I’d really felt was judged.

Rosalind Russell said, “Acting is standing up naked and turning around very slowly.” That’s exactly how I felt in my program, every day.

Day after day, I would pour my heart and soul into a performance for my professor and my classmates. I’d receive some small praise but buckets and buckets of criticism on top of that—what I could have done better and what was wrong with what I did or how I looked.

Deep inside, I knew that that was how I’d learn, grow, and become better, but the constant flow of negative feedback was really taking its toll on me. Most days I would go back to my small residence room and cry about how terrible I was.

I never felt good enough. I hadn’t yet realized that I was so afraid of judgment from other people because I was constantly judging myself.

Flash forward to exam week and I was sitting on the beach. To my left was the city. The hustle and bustle, the crowds, the competition, and the never ending flow of judgment and criticism.

To my right was the gentle blue waves, the soft stones and pebbles strewn along the sand, the ducks in all their carefree and content splendor, the swans with their heads held high, floating peacefully along the shoreline.

I knew in that moment that I would have to make a choice.

I either had to dedicate myself wholeheartedly to this profession, with all its criticism, or walk away and find something new. Both choices were equally daunting.

I always loved nature, and being immersed in it made me feel so calm. Life became simple and easy in those moments and it was okay to be me.

But I also loved performing—the sound of applause and the times when the light shone on me and I was approved. The brief moments when what I did was good enough.

The ducks didn’t need anyone to tell them that they were good enough. They didn’t have to memorize a script, work on it for hours, find the perfect costume, and perform their guts out to earn a single head nod.

The ducks were simply themselves. They didn’t care that there was someone on the beach. They didn’t instantly attempt to straighten their feathers or worry about whether or not I liked how they were swimming. They were completely at ease. Free.

I knew that if I continued down the path an actor takes, judgment was going to be with me every step of the way. It would be there for every performance, every agent I met, and every audition room I entered. What everyone else thought would always matter.

I decided that I would much rather be a duck with ruffled feathers and happy with myself than someone constantly striving and working toward validation from others, which was how I felt as an actress.

I had also started to hide behind the characters I was playing as a way to avoid being myself. That day, I resolved to find a different path, one I could walk down as me.

I gathered up my courage and withdrew from my program, which was terrifying. Dropping out meant letting go of the image I had of myself, and the image everyone else had of Stacey, the actor.

I had to let go of the idea of me, the idea I loved, the idea of who I wanted to be, in order to accept who I really was as a person.

Just as I was judged when acting, I knew I could also be judged for leaving it behind. But that simply didn’t matter anymore.

The best and most fulfilling realization came to me that day on the beach. I didn’t have to earn the right to be deemed good enough. I didn’t have to work for it. I didn’t have to do a song and dance to prove I was worthy.

The truth is there will always be judgment in life. There will always be someone to tell you that you aren’t smart enough, thin enough, or successful enough. You can’t change what people think. The good news is you don’t have to. If you believe in yourself, nothing else matters.

Sitting on that rock alone, appreciating the breeze in my hair and smiling at the ducks, I finally embraced the truth. I was already good enough. And it was in that moment of acceptance that I was truly free.

You can’t change people but you can change how you respond to them, which is what I did. Now, I acknowledge the criticism when it comes and immediately let it go. When someone offers support, encouragement, and love, I bring it in and allow it to raise me up higher.

The wonderful part of self-love is that once you know you are good enough already, there’s no way to go but up. The negativity fades and the positivity grows. Embrace the security, contentment, and inner peace that come with accepting yourself.

How can you accept yourself today? My best advice is in three small words: be a duck!

Let the judgment and criticism from others slide off your beak like water, swim how you want to swim, look goofy with your bum in the air, make silly sounds, do whatever makes you happy without caring what anyone else thinks, knowing you are wonderful exactly as you are right now.

Shout it from the rooftops and let the whole world know.

“I am good enough!”

Because you really are. So, give yourself permission to be you. Accept, believe in, and love yourself knowing you are already enough and you don’t need anyone else to tell you that. It is only once you accept yourself that you’ll be free to live the life you’ve imagined.

“Be who you want to be, not what others want to see.”

I learned that lesson from the ducks. And for that, I’ll be forever grateful.

Photo by ikon

April 9, 2014
Who Are You Trying to Prove Yourself To?

“If you don’t like something change it; if you can’t change it, change the way you think about it.” ~Mary Engelbreit

Some might say that their past haunts them like old ghosts. As for me, my ghost is my childhood.

I was raised in a moderately traditional family, as opposed to some overly traditional Chinese families where everyone lived by a thick rulebook.

Luckily, my family was a little more lenient, which I consider a true blessing. However, I felt as though my parents held me captive inside a glass box. Whenever I thought about being chained down from what I needed, I felt a part of me die.

I now realize that they never held the key to my escape. The horrifying truth came to light when an old, bitter anger rose up from within me a few days ago: I was my own captive.

Like I said, my ghost is my childhood. No matter how I’d trace and redraw the lines, I’d end up with the same result.

I was no angel as a child; in fact, I was far from it. I was a bad student, which was a big deal in my family, and my parents reacted just like any other parents would when they learned that their oldest child was being disrespectful.

So it was no surprise when they decided that I was going to have a hard time in life, and that I was going to end up in a community college while my baby brother would head off to a big shot university and then make the big bucks. (more…)

January 14, 2013