Tag: worthiness

Why I Didn’t Love Myself (and All the Suggestions That Didn’t Help)
“Remember, you have been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise Hay

There is a lot of hype around self-love these days. The media and marketing world often bombard us with messages insinuating that the key to self-love lies in consumerism. For a long time, I bought into this idea.

I would see an advertisement urging me to treat myself to a high-end face cream for a dose of self-care. Or a promotional email landing in my inbox might suggest that a calming lavender bubble bath was just what I needed to boost my self-love. Or I would receive a text notifying me of the latest designer bag on sale—isn’t self-love about indulging in what you fancy?

Despite buying all the things, incorporating self-care routines, and generally doing all the things these mediums recommended for self-love, I still felt unfulfilled.

I questioned why, despite following all the guidelines, something still felt amiss. I felt that emptiness creeping in, even when I had checked all the boxes these commercial messages prescribed.

Through navigating this journey, I’ve come to recognize an overlooked issue that often lurks in the shadows of the pursuit of self-love: low self-worth. The belief that I am not worthy of love, exactly as I am.

For most of my life, I found my self-worth through doing instead of being because this is what I learned from my church and home life. Serve, give, think of others. And I always got affirmation from my parents when I did something that was helpful to them. I don’t recall ever being asked what I wanted to do, and I really had no idea what I needed.

I thought that in order to be worthy of my own approval and love, I had to first receive it from others. I thought that by being the helper, the healer, the giver, I would gain the love of others and then be lovable.

I now realize that developing and believing in my own self-worth and loving myself is an inside job. All the healing, giving, and helping should have started with myself. You know, fill your own cup.

What I learned does not work is seeking something outside of me for approval and validation. You see, we cannot control how others perceive us, or whether they understand us. We cannot control if someone likes the way we look, the art we create, or the words we say. Nor should we allow their opinions to dictate who we are, what actions we take, what we say, or how we feel about ourselves or our lives.

For me, low self-worth showed up in very subtle ways that I am only now starting to see and understand because I now have an awareness of it.

For me, low self-worth showed up as me giving my body to men before I was ready, or not saying anything when they took my body without permission, instead acting as if everything was fine.

It manifested in me working at a job that had unrealistic expectations of me, that did not provide an environment to learn, grow and flourish—constantly giving my all and feeling it was never enough.

Low self-worth meant marrying someone because they loved me, not because I loved them.

It meant silencing my truth, my opinion, my feelings for the sake of not wanting to feel uncomfortable or make anyone else feel uncomfortable.

It meant giving more than I had to give expecting others would do the same.

I now know that my worthiness does not lie in what brand I am wearing, how big my house is, or how much money is in my bank account. And it’s not tied to how much I give or do for others, or whether someone likes me or not.

My worthiness lies in how I feel about myself. It starts with loving and approving of myself.

It was amazing to see the changes that occurred when I began to deem myself worthy for simply existing. Suddenly I found myself less interested in getting drunk to escape myself and the world, and less interested in pleasing people.

I began to ask myself why I was choosing to make a particular decision. Was it because I felt like I should, or was it because I genuinely wanted to? What I found was that many of my choices had a motive—to get approval from others.

As I navigate this space, I give myself permission to change my mind, to cancel plans, to do my best to lean into the discomfort of change.

I validate myself daily through mirror work, affirmations, and making choices that are beneficial for me.

I make an effort to speak kindly to myself and forgive myself for past mistakes, which in turn allows me to forgive others more easily, and to understand that we are all here doing the best we can do, with the awareness that we have.

If you are on this journey of self-love and find that you are not making the progress you would like, ask yourself the following questions:
- Where does my self-worth come from?
- Do I believe that I am worthy of love?
- If not, why? When did I form this belief, and how can I let it go?
- What actions can I start taking to show myself that I love and honor myself?
- What type of thoughts am I thinking about myself?
- What proof can I find that my negative thoughts are actually untrue?
On this journey of discovering my worth and loving myself I’ve had my fair share of tripping, face plants, and “oh NOO, not again” moments. There have been ups and downs, good days and bad days, periods of rapid progress followed by times of stagnation or regression.

This journey will be lifelong for me, but despite the obstacles, I have discovered a deeper sense of peace (at times) than I ever imagined possible, experienced more joy and laughter than I thought could exist, and found more moments filled with gratitude than ever before.

As I choose to uphold the idea of appreciating progress rather than pursuing perfection, I realize that it is all worthwhile.
September 24, 2023
How I Stopped Chasing Men Who Hurt Me and Found Healthy Love

“There are two things you should never waste your time on: things that don’t matter and people who think that you don’t matter.” ~Ziad K. Abdelnour

“What is wrong with me?” I asked myself. Crying in the dark of the night. “Why doesn’t he love me?”

I’d tried to fold myself in all the ways I could to be loved and accepted, but it was never enough. I found myself repeating patterns of chasing men who just didn’t want me. Same cry in the night, different men.

The more I chased them, the more they ran away, and the deeper I lost my self-worth.

I was addicted to them. They were my drug. These men who were wounded and just needed a loving, caring woman to come save them. I wanted to be the answer to their pain so then finally, a man would choose me. Finally, I would get the love I had longed for and chased my whole life.

I always chased men that were unavailable in some way. They may have been addicts, in other relationships, or just not ready for a relationship. The more they didn’t want the relationship, the harder I would chase.

I would be up late in the night, full of anxiety, obsessing about them. So preoccupied with trying to make them love me that I forgot to take care of myself.

I had no boundaries and would accept any kind of awful behavior. It would break my heart and I may pull back for a moment, but then they would notice and come toward me, so the pull-push cycle would begin again.

I lacked self-love and self-worth, and this pattern was destroying what little I had. I felt like nothing and like there was something fundamentally wrong with me.

My happiness, my everything, was tied up in receiving validation from these unavailable men. The older I got, the worse it got, and the more obvious it was that something was not right. My friends were getting married, having children, and moving forward. But I was stuck ruminating about my latest obsession.

I even drove my friends mad! No matter what they said to me, it wouldn’t stop me chasing a fantasy. When they stopped listening, I rang a psychic line multiple times a day for validation that the man I wanted was ‘the one.’ So not only did my self-worth disappear but my bank balance with it.

It was exhausting and brought me to my knees in my mid-thirties.

Then I noticed something. If someone was interested in me, available, and wanted to move forward, I would feel suffocated and tell myself there was no chemistry. But if someone showed some interest but was not available, I would want them more than anything.

I felt like there was something really wrong with me because of this pattern, but I was determined to change, so I could have healthy, loving romantic relationships.

I read You Can Heal Your Life, by Louise Hay, and decided to change my beliefs.

Here are the five things I did to heal so I could open up to a healthier relationship:

1. I adopted a daily self-care practice.

It became painfully obvious to me that I knew how to love others but not myself. So I began with adding some practices to my day to help me build self-love.

I listened to affirmations on Spotify and read them to myself looking in the mirror. I tried meditation and hot baths to begin my journey. I was always researching new ways to show myself love. In addition to developing a self-care practice, I invested in support to help me get better, including therapy.

2. I began doing inner child work.

I went back to my earlier story through meditation and discovered that younger-me was always chasing after my dad’s unavailable love. Trying to help him, to be seen. Trying to fix him so he would tell me I was enough. Seeking his validation, his connection, because he was unavailable due to his own childhood trauma. My inner child had internalized this to means I was unlovable.

I began to say affirmations to a photo of my younger self. “You are loveable,” “You are enough,” “You are worthy.” I would literally talk to her and ask her how she felt and what she needed. I would imagine playing with her and showing her love.

I explored my inner child’s story and learned lots about attachment theory. I realized that I had disorganized attachment from my father’s inconsistency, and that this was not my fault but just part of my old programming. The great news was I could change this! A book that helped me was Healing Your Attachment Wounds, by Diane Poole Heller.

When I recognized why I sought love from men who couldn’t give it to me, that ache for unavailable love lessened.

3. I set clear intentions.

I grew up on my dad’s little crumbs of love. It made me feel starved for love and attention, so later in life, I would accept them from any man who showed me interest. Even if they weren’t the right fit for me. I had no idea what that was!

When I realized this, I compiled a list of what I didn’t want. I tuned into what brought me pain and unhappiness growing up. Things that made me feel unsafe. These became my red flags. For example, emotional unavailability, anger, shouting, gaslighting, denying my reality, and addiction were a few items from my list.

I became conscious about what I didn’t want so I wouldn’t blindly go into a relationship that made me feel unsafe again.

I also compiled a list of things I did want—must-haves like kindness and safety.

4. I ended contact with unavailable men.

This was a hard one and felt very uncomfortable. I took a step back from my ‘drug.’ I even unfollowed people on social media to allow myself space to heal. Sometimes I would have a bad day and make contact, but slowly my addiction lessened.

To support myself through this process, I read books, listened to podcasts, and even trained for a marathon to give me another focus. Books like Father Therapy, by Doreen Virtue, and Facing Love Addiction, by Pia Mellody, helped me to understand my pattern. I also found communities where I could share my story and not be judged.

I learned how to stop numbing the pain from my past with these unhealthy relationships by learning how to soothe myself and let my wounds heal.

5. I dated myself.

I stepped back from dating and focused solely on learning to love and date myself. To start, I took myself on a trip for three days in Italy. I took my books, went on tours on my own, and journaled about my story. I regularly spent time with myself and even found new hobbies. Before, I had been so obsessed with these men that pleasing them was my hobby.

I found ways to enjoy my own time and have fun! To feel whole and enough on my own. I took myself to restaurants and treated myself to gifts. I became the person I always wanted. Validating, attentive, kind, and fun!

Sure enough, in time, I found an emotionally available man who chose me and was everything I wrote on my intention list. He had no red flags, unlike any of my previous partners. He makes me feel safe every day, and most importantly, he gives me space to continue the most important relationship in my life. The one with me.

If you can relate to this pattern of choosing emotionally unavailable partners, just notice the behavior. It is not you. It is just a behavior you are doing to keep safe. Thank this part and know that it is possible to change and find your healthy love.

August 24, 2022
No One Was Coming to Save Me: The Insignificance I Felt as a Kid

“Never make the mistake of thinking you are alone—or inconsequential.” ~ Rebecca McKinsey

I can still remember it as vividly as if it happened yesterday.

Our kitchen was small. Only enough room for a few people, and there were four of us kids scrounging to get our hands on the rest of the leftovers. It wasn’t a fight, but I can say with certainty that there was an underlying assumption that whoever got their hands on it first was able to claim it, so there was competition.

I grabbed my spoon first and then went to the fridge to get my food when my dad grabbed the spoon out of hand.

“Dad! Give it back!” I said in my most rude teenage voice.

Not a second passed and his hand met my cheek with a blow that knocked me to the floor. There must have been a loud noise as I flopped to the floor, hitting the dishwasher, because my mom, who was doing laundry, came running inside to see what was going on.

I lay there helpless on the floor, not struggling but also not fighting.

I looked up at my mom, who looked back at me, then at my dad. She gave a sigh of disapproval, turned the corner, and walked away.

Still on the floor, I looked up at my brother who was eating at the bar that faced where I was lying. He looked at me chewing his food, continued to eat, and said nothing.

This was the first time I remember feeling alone. It was a reminder that hit me like a ton of bricks that nobody was coming to save me… nobody.

Of course, this reality check didn’t come without consequences. It most certainly left a hole in my heart and closed off parts of me that later became nearly impossible to break. But I survived. I just learned to survive without the parts of me that were open to love and compassion.

While the trauma of getting hit by a parent has repercussions, I believe it was the ignoring of suffering that had more catastrophic consequences for me.

Having both parents fail me at the same moment and then looking up to see my brother carrying on with his life as if nothing was out of the ordinary was complete devastation for me.

In that moment, it was a reminder of my worth, and it was a reminder of my insignificance within my family.

And that became my voice for a large part of my life.

It’s funny, though, because I never remember feeling alone as a kid, and it’s probably just because I never understood what that even looked like. It took years of trying hard to sit with my feelings to understand that what I was feeling was insignificance. Years.

Not having the vocabulary around my feelings made normalizing them so difficult. Now I can look at what I was feeling with confidence and not give it more weight than it deserves. I can label it, feel it, look at it objectively, and move on without taking it personally.

Today I realize that feeling lonely, unseen, and insignificant was simply a product of emotionally immature parents, not a reflection of who I was. But as a kid, I internalized it as a problem with myself because I couldn’t properly label it and assign meaning to it. Instead, I made what I was feeling a part of my character, and thus I subconsciously became a magnet for all the things that would validate that “character flaw” in myself.

I dated people who treated me like crap and sought out mean guys. I had friends who were hurtful. And all the while I felt like I had a problem that made me unlovable.

And I’m not gonna lie, I’m a lot of “too-much-ness” for a lot of people, but emotionally mature people cannot just handle me, they can love me too. Because while I am a lot, I’m also full of a lot of love too.

I tell this story because I realized that naming our feelings is foundational to learning to communicate without projecting blame onto others. This isn’t just true for children going through a difficult time. This is true for many of us adults who just never learned the vocabulary around what certain feelings even look like.

When we own our feelings, we’re less likely to blame other people for causing them because we understand where they originated and know it’s our responsibility to work through them.

My feelings of insignificance will probably never go away when it comes to my relationship with my family. Mother’s Day was difficult for me this year because it brought back those same feelings of loneliness (and a bit of sadness), but they no longer hold the same weight. I now can see my feelings at face value without judging myself and my character as a result.

Instead, I know that…

I am not insignificant, and I am worthy of love. And that is why I have created a life full of love and meaning in my own family.

My “too-much-ness” is only “too much” for those that don’t have the ability to see the beauty in me. And that is why I surround myself with only those who see me through a lens of love.

There is value in learning what our feelings are, defining them, recognizing what they look like, and realizing how they can run us ragged if left unchecked. If you do one thing this year, learn about your feelings so they no longer can control you.

August 16, 2022
It’s Okay to Have No Purpose Beyond Being and Enjoying This Moment

“I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.” ~Joseph Campbell

I was sitting on my yoga mat with my legs stretched out in front of me. I bent forward into a fold, puffing and clenching my jaw as I extended my fingertips toward my toes. I was growing angrier by the second.

A slew of sour thoughts marched through my brain.

This is stupid. I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing. I’m so out of shape. Other people have no trouble with this pose. This hurts. Why bother doing yoga at all? It doesn’t work.

My mat resistance was strong at this moment, but it was also indicative of a much larger problem. Doing the pose “right” wasn’t the issue here; it was my belief that unless I could bend a certain way, I wasn’t progressing in my yoga teacher training.

I wasn’t meeting my goal. I wasn’t being “productive.”

And surely, there was no greater sin than that.

A Collective Fungus

The idea that you aren’t worthy unless you are producing results has seeped like insidious black mold into every facet of our modern lives.

We are pressured to always be making goals, going somewhere, or achieving something. “Doing nothing” is scorned as lazy. Pursuing a hobby with no monetary value or social esteem is deemed a waste of time.

You only have a certain number of days on this planet. If you don’t spend them hustling, you’re of no use to anyone.

You’re writing a novel? Well, have you published it yet? How much money did you get for it?

Oh, you’ve taken up jogging? Why? Are you planning on running a marathon? What are your weight goals?

Don’t you want to leave a legacy behind? Don’t you want people to read off a list of impressive accomplishments at your funeral?

But the truth is that the most meaningful things that happen to us in life have no clear point.

You can’t cash in on the beauty of a sunset. There’s no “purpose” to stargazing. Listening to a song that transports you out of time and space doesn’t pay the bills.

Moments like these are born from joy and wonder, and they are what give our lives meaning. It’s time we gave ourselves permission to feel them.

1. Schedule time to do nothing.

Once I realized how much the burden of being productive was curdling my overall joy in life, I started setting aside time to simply “be.” For me, this involved sitting on my porch with a glass of wine in hand, trying to simply be present to what was going on around me.

No phone, no music, no screens.

What became very apparent, very quickly, was how restless I grew without any busywork. I felt guilty and slothful. What was the point of just sitting here, enjoying the scenery? I should be out there doing something.

But I did my best to ignore such feelings, and I continued to show up for these pockets of allotted rest. What I noticed was that gradually, the shame began to melt away. The more I gave myself permission to do nothing, the more I felt my spirit expand in the space I had created for it.

These boozy relaxation sessions on the porch were only one way to cultivate gratitude and stillness. I tried other things as well, like bringing a more presence-focused—and less goal-oriented—attitude to my yoga practice.

The “5-4-3-2-1” meditation was another helpful centering practice. It goes something like this:

Take a moment to look around and note five things you see. Then note four things you hear, three things you can touch, two things you smell, and one thing you can taste. You can mix and match what senses go with which number.

These moments of “being time” will look different for everyone. The point is to take a moment to note what is happening around you right here, right now.

Let go of the shame that is so often attached to being “unproductive.” Give yourself permission to do nothing, even if it’s just for a few minutes a day.

2. Abandon the idea that “self-love” means “selfish.”

Granting yourself the grace to “be” is an integral component of self-love—a complicated and guilt-provoking term for many of us because we have so often been told that “self-love” is the same thing as “selfishness.”

This misconception is yet another way our society has prioritized “hustling” over inner peace, and such an attitude often leads to the tragic dismissal of our own feelings and boundaries.

Labeling self-love as selfish doesn’t stem from a healthy consideration of those around you, but from a devaluing of your own humanity.

Self-love is the recognition that you have inherent value as a human being who takes up space on this beautiful green and blue marble.

In practice, it means doing things that reinforce this truth—in whatever way nourishes you emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

For me, it means eating greener and doing yoga. It means respecting my creative process by resting so I don’t burn out.

It means giving myself permission to let go of relationships that are ruled by guilt or fear. It means practicing embodiment through breathing exercises and checking in with my mental health.

These are my ways of practicing self-love. They don’t have to be yours. Pay attention to what makes you feel free and joyous. Then go do that.

Try to embrace that fact that you are worth prioritizing, every day, until this idea blossoms into your lived reality.

3. Give yourself permission to not have a “purpose.”

Have you ever been in a job interview and had the person sitting across from you ask, “So where do you see yourself in five years?’

Well, consider this your official letter of permission to have no clue what you’re doing in five years—or even one year. You don’t even have to know what you’re doing tomorrow.

The only “purpose” we have as human beings is to move toward and reflect love. There are a lot of different ways to do this, and everyone deserves the space to discover the path that is right for them.

Ultimately, life is about joy, not productivity or the subjective goalposts of success. Grant yourself the grace to exist in this world. Being alive is a miracle.

You are enough simply because you are.

August 14, 2022
You’re Bent, Not Broken: A Mindset Shift That Can Change Your Life

“Bent but never broken; down but never out.” ~Annetta Ribken

I lived for a long time thinking I was broken beyond repair.

Let me rephrase: I thought I was unloved, unworthy, scarred, and broken. What a package, right?

It started young, never feeling like I was good enough for anything I did. Being the youngest of the typical modern recomposed family in the eighties, I never knew on which foot to dance and always thought I needed to bend left and right to be seen and loved.

I carried this baggage under my badge of anxiety, feeling like no one and nothing could ever make me happy, that no one could love the real me, that nothing could ever make me feel worthy.

It reached a point as I was entering my forties when all I wanted to do was disappear. I wanted to not be who I was. I wanted to die.

I thought that was my only solution.

I believed the world would be better without me.

What I didn’t understand then is that by thinking I was broken, unworthy, unloved, and all the other awful things I told myself daily, I was pouring salt into old wounds that had no chance to mend until I stopped the self-loathing.

The more I told myself I was broken, the more I was breaking my soul. The more I told myself I was unloved, the less I loved others and opened myself up to love. The more I told myself I was unworthy, the more I interpreted others’ words to mean the same.

I didn’t know what I could do. I didn’t know how to get out of the storm I was stuck in. I didn’t know what could help me live in the moment and stop hurting from the past or getting scared of the future.

How do you get out of hurting so much you want to die?

For me: writing.

It was the only thing I could do.

I was losing friends left and right, closing up like an oyster, hurting myself and others with my words and actions—but my pen and paper were my salvation.

I bled tears and words until the day I could take a step back.

The pain, the feeling of being broken and unworthy was still here; I could barely look at myself in a mirror, even less love anyone properly. But as I was playing with my pencil not finding words for a poem I needed to write to survive, I kept pushing into a crack it had. And I pushed my nails into it, and I played with it, and picked at it and some more not really thinking what I was doing, desperately trying to find words, until the pencil broke in two.

No, let me take responsibility—until I broke the pencil in two.

I looked at the two pieces in my hand.

I had played with that pencil’s crack until I broke it.

My fingers kind of hurt, but I smiled.

This wasn’t me. This couldn’t be me. I really didn’t want this to become me.

I wasn’t two parts of one entity.

I was still one.

And if I was still one, I wasn’t broken, I was just scarred. I was just bent.

From that moment on, everything shifted.

I wasn’t broken, just bent. I could learn to love myself again.

It became like a mantra I repeated daily.

And if I wasn’t broken, just bent, then maybe I wasn’t unlovable but loved by the wrong people. And maybe I wasn’t unworthy but only surrounded by people who didn’t recognize my worth, or maybe I was blind to my awesomeness.

And if I wasn’t broken, if I stopped playing with my wounds, then maybe the healed scars could tell a story. And if I could tell my story and help others in any way, maybe, just maybe my pain and hardship and years of anxiety and depression could become more than a feeling of brokenness.

So maybe I wasn’t broken. Maybe I was indeed just bent.

It was hard to say it out loud, it was hard to explain, but the moment I shifted my mindset, I felt a relief.

I knew then I could rise from the traumas I’d gone through. Even the smallest ones.

I could give myself a second chance at life by healing and sharing my story.

I wasn’t broken; I was made to break the shell of my past and show that if I could do it, you could too.

Because here is my biggest secret: I am no one, and I am everyone.

My story is the same story as most of yours. I didn’t deal with my traumas, and they caught up. I thought I had dealt with the past by putting a bandage on it when I really needed an open soul surgery.

I thought I could wear a mask and be loved for who I thought people wanted me to be, but this made me feel unloved to the core.

I thought I was broken when I was only bent by circumstances I needed to untangle. I thought I was unworthy but I was capable of creating art with my scars and shining a light on the most common depression story ever to tell others they weren’t alone and could get out of it too.

So don’t tell yourself that you are broken.

Don’t think you need an extraordinary story to help others find their light.

Don’t believe you are no one, because we are all no one, and we are everyone.

I’m not a life coach, I’m not selling classes, I’m not even trying to save your soul. I’m just like you, trying to find a light of love and joy. And together, we are healing, and we have a story to write. A story about the power of choosing to see yourself as someone with strength, value, and purpose.

Change your mindset today. See yourself as just bent, and don’t try to straighten yourself up.

Allow yourself to be bent, and let the shift happen.

Broken is irreparable.

Bent is not.

It’s not a big difference, but it might change your life.

March 22, 2022
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
How I Developed Self-Worth After Being Sexually Harassed and Fired
“Your value doesn’t decrease based on someone’s inability to see your worth.” ~Unknown

In my early twenties, I was a food and beverage manager at a nice hotel in Portland, Maine. About a month after I started working there, they hired our department director, a man twice my age whom I would report to.

At the end of his first week, we went out for a “get to know each other” drink at a loud and busy bar. As we drank and chatted, he was physically very close to me. I told myself it was because of the noise.

His knees were against mine as we chatted facing each other on barstools. It made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t do anything about it. He put his hand on my thigh as we talked. I pretended it didn’t bother me.

He leaned in very close to my face and ear as he talked about himself and told me how attractive I was. He led me through doorways with his hand gently on the small of my back.

There was more of this over the next few months. More of him stepping on and just over that invisible line. More of me acting as though I was okay with it and convincing myself that I was.

A few months after that night, he and I were in a position to fire a male employee who had several complaints against him for not doing his work.

The morning before the firing, Human Resources pulled me into their office to tell me that this employee had lodged a complaint about my boss and me. He had said that he knew we were going to fire him, and he believed it was because my boss and I were having an affair. His “proof” was that he saw us at the bar that Friday night and saw us “kissing.” There was even a line cook who backed up his story.

A few days later, both of these employees admitted that they didn’t exactly see us kissing, they just saw us talking very closely together, and it looked intimate.

HR dropped the complaint but no longer felt comfortable with firing this employee, so he stayed on. A few weeks later after a busy event that went poorly due to being understaffed, I was taken into the CEO’s office, and I was fired.

The male employee continued working there. My male boss continued working there. The male employee was promoted to take my now vacant position. My male boss was promoted to work at a larger resort at a tropical destination.

These two events—being accused of having an affair with my married older boss, and subsequently being fired for an event that I wasn’t even in charge of staffing—were the two lowest points of my professional career.

I honestly rarely think back to this time in my life, but I also recently realized that I never talk about this experience because of my embarrassment that I let this happen without objection.

What This Story is Really About

I didn’t think that my boss would hurt me. I wasn’t even worried that I would lose my job if I pushed back. I was afraid that if I acted like someone who was bothered by his comments, I would be seen as a lame, no fun, boring, stuck-up prude.

I subconsciously believed that my worthiness as a person was determined by people who were cooler than me, more successful than me, smarter than me, or more liked than me.

I believe that had I told my boss “no,” he would have listened. I’d gotten to know him over several months, and while he was egotistical, dim-witted, and selfish, I think he would have respected my boundaries had I set them. I just never did.

There are a lot of layers to this story. Far too many to cover in one post.

But the reason for writing this today is to share what I was so ashamed of. I was ashamed that young, twenty-something me was so insecure and so afraid of rejection that her people-pleasing led to allowing this man to touch her and act inappropriately.

She was so afraid that if she set a boundary and said “no” she would be seen as too emotional, weak, and a complainer. She would become “less than.”

I’ll restate that there are a lot of layers to this; from the patriarchal system at this business (and society as a whole), to the abuse of men in power, to mixed messages at high school where girls were not allowed to wear certain clothes because the boys would get distracted, to a lack of examples through the 90s/early 2000’s of what it looks like for a young woman to stand up for herself in a situation like this, and far beyond.

But the part of the story I want to focus on right now is my insecurity. This is the part of the story that I had the most shame and regret about, because this was not an isolated incident for me.

Insecurity was a Trend Throughout My Life

People-pleasing was a huge problem for me in several areas of my life for many years. It’s something that held me back from so much.
- I didn’t leave a long relationship that I’d dreamt of ending for fear that I would disappoint our families.
- I let people walk all over me, interrupt me while I spoke, and tell me what I should think.
- In my late twenties I remember being home alone, again, crying that I had no one who would want to spend time with me or go somewhere with me, feeling sad and lonely, when in reality I was just too scared and embarrassed to pick up the phone and ask, for fear of rejection.
I wasted so many years and felt a lot of pain, and a whole lot of nothing happened as I was stuck. Stuck feeling worthless, unlikable, and unknowing how to “please” my way out of it.

I spent years numbing how uncomfortable my insecurity made me feel by smoking a lot of pot. I avoided what I came to realize were my triggers by staying home or finding excuses to leave early if I did go out. I blamed everyone else for how they made me feel. I compared myself to everyone and constantly fell short.

Until eventually, I realized the cause for all this pain and discomfort was believing my worth was based on what other people thought of me.

The Emotional Toolbox That Saved Me

If I could go back in time to give myself one thing, it would be the emotional toolbox that I’ve collected over the years so that I could stop living to please other people, because I know now that I am inherently worthy.

By my thirties I found myself on a journey to lift the veil of insecurity that hid me from my real self. This wall I’d inadvertently built to protect myself was keeping me from seeing who I really was beneath my fear and anxiety.

Once I found the courage to start tearing down that wall and opening myself to the vulnerability necessary to truly connect with the real me, I was able to discern between who I am and what I do. I learned to stop judging myself. I learned my true value. And I liked what I saw.

Finding My Core Values

I came to realize that it’s hard to feel worthy when you don’t really like yourself. And it’s even harder to genuinely like yourself if you don’t truly know yourself. Figuring out my core values was a crucial part of the puzzle.

Core values are the beliefs, principles, ideals, and traits that are most important to you. They represent what you stand for, what you’re committed to, and how you want to operate in the world.

Knowing your core values is like having a brighter flashlight to get through the woods at night. It shines a light on the path ahead—a path that aligns with your true self—so that you can show up in the world and to challenging situations as the person you want to be.

It helps you decide in any given scenario if you want to be funny or compassionate, direct or easy-going, decisive or open-minded. These aren’t easy decisions to make, but knowing how you want to be in this world helps you make the decisions that best align with your authentic self.

And when you truly know yourself and act intentionally and authentically in tune with your values (as best as you can) a magical thing happens: You connect with your own inherent worthiness.

For me, I came to realize that I am a compassionate, kind, courageous, funny, well-balanced woman constantly in pursuit of purposeful growth. I like that person. She’s cool. I’d hang out with her.

More importantly, I believe she is a good person deserving of respect. Which means I don’t need to accept situations that cross my boundaries. I have a right to speak up when something makes me uncomfortable.

So how do you want to be? Which of your principles and qualities matter most to you? And what would you do or change if you chose to let those principles and qualities guide you?

Connecting With Others About My Shame

Shame breeds in the darkness. We don’t normally speak up about the things that we feel embarrassed about. And that leads to us feeling isolated and alone with how we feel.

Whether it’s reading stories online, talking with friends, joining a support group, going to therapy, or working with a coach, share and listen. A vital component of self-compassion is learning to connect over our shared experiences. And it takes self-compassion to respect and believe in our own self-worth, especially when confronted with our inner critic.

By sharing my feelings of insecurity, I learned that a beautiful friend of mine also felt ugly. I thought, “Wow, if someone that gorgeous could think of herself as anything less than, my thinking might be wrong too.” I found out that even talented celebrities from Lady Gaga to Arianna Huffington to Maya Angelou have all felt insecure about their abilities. That somehow gave me permission to feel the way that I did, which was the first step in letting it go.

Who can you connect with? If you’re not sure, or you aren’t at a place yet in your journey to feel comfortable doing that, perhaps start by reading stories online.

Coaching Myself Through Insecurity

Alas, I am only human. Therefore, I still fall victim to moments of insecurity and feel tempted to let other people dictate my worth. Knowing that purposeful growth is important to me, I know that the work continues, and I’m willing to do it.

So I coach myself through those challenging times when I say something stupid and worry about being judged or I come across someone who is similar to me, but more successful and fear that means I’m not good enough. I’ll ask myself questions as a way of stepping out of self-judgment mode, and into an open and curious mindset. These are questions like:
- If my good friend was experiencing this, how would I motivate her?
- Did I do the best I could with what I had?
- If the universe gave me this experience for a reason, what lesson am I supposed to be learning so that I can turn this into a meaningful experience?
- What uncomfortable thing am I avoiding? Am I willing to be uncomfortable in order to go after what I want?
Or I’ll break out the motivational phrases that remind me of my capabilities or worthiness like:
- I can do hard things.
- My worthiness is not determined by other people’s opinions.
- This is just one moment in time, and it will pass.
- Even though this is difficult, I’m willing to do it.
- I forgive myself for making a mistake. I’ve learned from it and will do better next time.
Tools like these are simple, but priceless. They gave me my life. And I can say now without hesitation, I like myself, I love myself, I love my life, I’m worthy as hell, and I’m my own best friend. That’s how I want to live my life.

Because of this, I have the confidence to speak my truth with courage, and I have the confidence to live authentically and unapologetically myself. And the number one person I’m most concerned with pleasing is myself.
June 6, 2021
If You’re Insecure and Afraid of Rejection Like Me…

“How brave the moon shines in her skin; outnumbered by the stars.” ~Angie Welland-Crosby

I have this reoccurring dream where I am about to teach a yoga class. I stand to teach, and no one is paying any attention to me. They are all distracted or in deep conversation with one another and have no interest in engaging in the class.

As I begin, one by one the students get up and leave. I am mortified and discouraged, though I continue to teach anyway.

I wake up from the dream with a sinking feeling in my stomach and heaviness in my heart. Rather than indulge and spiral into sadness, I turn directly toward the aching.

“Where is this coming from?” This is the question I ask myself as I dive into self-healing. Just as the body has the ability to heal itself on a cellular level when injured, we too have the ability to heal our emotional wounds.

I have never been fired, from a job or relationship. I have always been the one to leave. This is not something I take pride in, rather I see a pattern that has developed over the course of my life since childhood.

When I receive criticism, my insecurities are triggered. It must be because I am not good enough, as an employee, teacher, friend, partner. Clearly there is something wrong with me. My instinct in these situations is to run, to leave before anyone discovers my flaws, before I feel more hurt.

I fear being abandoned or rejected, so at the first sign of conflict I retreat, like a turtle that goes into its shell the moment it senses danger.

When I look back at my past I am left with overwhelming grief. As I peel back the layers further, I see more clearly the origins. Beliefs deeply rooted in childhood and cemented in adolescence. False beliefs of being replaceable, unworthy, not enough.

Underneath the protective armor is an extremely sensitive and hurt little girl.

A girl whose older sister locked her out of her room and refused to play.

A girl who was teased by neighborhood kids for being weird.

A girl whose best friend started an “I hate Shannon club” in fourth grade.

A girl who always saw her friends as smarter, prettier, cooler, and more likeable.

A girl who was desperate to be accepted.

These deeply rooted wounds need proper acknowledgement in order to be healed.

When we feel vulnerable or hurt, we tend to close off our hearts, gossip, turn to anger, or run away rather than address the discomfort. None of these behaviors will heal our emotional wounds. They are only temporary means of alleviating the pain. In order to break these old, conditioned patterns, first we must identify where the feelings are coming from.

When We Feel Rejected

Let’s face it, people can be mean. We ourselves can be mean.

It can be hurtful and scarring to be left out, rejected, or on the receiving end of another’s harsh comments or behavior. But often, it isn’t as personal as we think. Often, others hurt us because they themselves are hurting. Perhaps it isn’t even intentional and the other is unaware they are inflicting pain.

When we look beneath the surface of rejection, we ultimately discover feelings of fear and abandonment. But we can choose to change how we think about rejection, and consequently, what we feel.

While we can’t control what other people think, say, or do, we can control how we receive and perceive. We get to choose whether we allow another’s comments to define who we are or how we feel about ourselves.

There are some situations where walking away is the right thing to do. But not out of fear, spite, or in defense, but rather from a place of surrender and acceptance.

We can redirect our energy to people and situations that are positive and enriching. Mutually loving relationships and situations where we treat one another with kindness, support, and encouragement. Where, rather than tear one another (or ourselves) down, we lift each other into the highest version of ourselves.

There are countless situations that can trigger feelings of unworthiness, but I’d like to focus on two specific ones that have been particularly challenging for me.

When a Relationship Ends

Whether we chose to leave or not, there is often a deep sense of loss when a relationship ends. These feelings of loss can reappear at any time after we think we have moved on, especially when we witness someone else taking our place. A place that once made us feel special, valued, adored.

I experienced this as I watched my ex’s new girlfriend move into a home that was once mine. The feeling of being replaceable. Even if ultimately, a relationship isn’t good for us and is no longer what we want for our future, watching someone move on can bring up grief and insecurity.

Rather than indulge in these feelings, we can choose to be happy for the other. Happy they have found love and comfort in someone else. Happy at their own ability to heal and move forward with their life.

Not always easy when we haven’t found love or comfort in another, we haven’t healed, and we aren’t moving forward with our own life. What makes it even harder is that we often reject ourselves when we feel rejected by someone we loved. The antidote? Focus on finding love and comfort in ourselves to reinforce that we are still worthy of love, and we don’t deserve to be or feel rejected—by anyone, including ourselves.

When We Compare Ourselves to Others

Jealousy is a destructive emotion and can be triggered by an off-hand comment, a sideways look, or a social media post.

We are happy and content one moment, the next our ex updates their Facebook status to “in a relationship,” or we see a post from someone who appears to be doing better in life, and we are sent into a downward spiral that involves stalking profiles, comparing ourselves to another, anger, questioning our decisions, feelings of regret… the list goes on.

In order to overcome the green-eyed monster, we must stop comparing ourselves to others and see our own unique gifts.

Often it is the desire to be someone special that drives unhealthy behavior and thought patterns. Consider this: You already are special. You already are good enough, just as you are. Without having to change or do anything different. You can stop trying to be good enough and allow yourself to just be.

When I recently experienced conflict in an interpersonal relationship, I was talking with my mom and I said to her in defeat, “I just try so hard to be a good person.”

She said to me, “Well then stop trying. You already are a good person. You don’t have to try, it’s who you are.”

The truth is, no one has come before you or will come after you with your exact qualities. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone else or to yourself. The fact that you even exist is a miracle. What a gift. Allow who you are to shine, and allow others to shine, without insecurities, jealousy, or fear. Our true gifts are revealed when we recognize we are each perfect just as we are.

It’s Time to Write a New Story

Those old stories from childhood, the hateful words on the playground or rejection from others, they don’t fit any more. They never did. We unfortunately allowed them to mean something about us and replayed the same story over and over again. As adults we have the ability and awareness to see and break these old patterns.

Just recognizing our old stories is a great first step. The next step is to create new stories that better align with who we want to be and how we want to feel. And the last step is supporting those new stories with our perceptions and interpretations.

Instead of interpreting a breakup or layoff as proof of our unworthiness, we can tell ourselves there’s something better out there for us—and we deserve it. Instead of expecting people to reject us, we can focus on all the reasons we’re worth accepting, and recognize that if they don’t, it’s their loss.

We can also help ourselves engrain these new stories by surrounding ourselves with people who support, value, and encourage us.

As I continue on my own path to healing, I am so grateful for an amazingly supportive boyfriend and network of friends and family (including my sister, who has become my best friend over the years), as well as an incredible puppy who teaches me the meaning of unconditional love daily (I highly recommend a dog for healing emotional wounds). Even when I retreat or fall into old patterns, I continue to be surrounded by people who accept me, challenge me, lift me, and inspire me to be the best version of myself.

My new dream goes like this: I show up to class to teach yoga and students arrive ready and willing to practice. They are engaged and excited to be there, and so am I. I am no longer insecure and fearful of rejection or abandonment. In this new dream, I give everything I have and allow my gifts to shine. In doing this I give others permission to do the same.

We are the authors of our own story. The kind of story where we get to live our best life. We can rewrite our story if it no longer fits as we continue to grow and evolve on our path. What will your story say about you?

January 11, 2021
How to Feel Good Enough (When You Feel Anything But)

“There are plenty of difficult obstacles in your path. Don’t allow yourself to become one of them.” ~Ralph Marston

I recently had a personal conversation with someone who was describing some struggles they were experiencing. In passing, they mentioned “It’s okay for you, you’ve fought your battles” and went on to talk about how I’m married, I’m working in a career I love, and I’m “successful.”

Listening to them, I could feel my heart breaking, partly for them: I know what it’s like to compare my insides to someone else’s outsides and find myself severely wanting.

But I also felt a deep sadness tinged with frustration, because their assumption was so far from the truth.

While I am incredibly grateful to have the relationship, the professional opportunities, and everything else I have—and it’s true there are some battles that are now in my past—there are also plenty of challenges I’m still navigating. The biggest one by far is around feeling good enough; feeling at peace and fulfilled with who I am and what I’m doing in life.

For a long time, I used external achievement to buoy my sense of worthiness. Underneath that, however, hid a lot of shame and anxiety, because I thought I was somehow deficient compared to other people. I felt a constant need to reinvent myself and be more than I currently was to keep up with those around me.

Feeling good enough (and defining what good enough is) has been one of my biggest struggles and something I’ve realized will possibly be a lifelong process.

I’d like to share some of my experiences and talk about a few things I’ve found helpful for my own ongoing journey. If you also struggle to feel good enough as you are, I hope they are helpful for you too:

1. “Good enough” looks like different things in different contexts.

I used to set myself up for failure by telling myself something needed to be perfect to be good enough. Now, I’ve learned “good enough” exists on a spectrum, influenced by the situation, the context and other things that are happening in life, as well as my well-being, my values, and my priorities.

In her book Succeed, psychologist Heidi Grant Halvorson explains it’s more helpful to focus on “getting better” rather than “being good.”

When we focus on the latter, we tend to tie our self-worth to achievement and see ourselves either as a success or a failure. With the former, we are more open to the idea that skills, capability, and achievement are malleable things we can influence with our beliefs and behavior.

When I tell myself the story that something has to go exactly to plan or it’s a total failure, I’m less likely to try things, I’m less open to feedback that will help me improve, and ultimately, I’m less likely to grow.

If I try something and it doesn’t work out, it might feel painful in the short-term, but I know I’ll feel much better (and prouder of myself) looking back and knowing I’ve tried than looking back at a missed opportunity.

I’ve also learned that it’s important to define “good enough” on my terms. Other people might have different ideas about what it means and looks like, but I can’t control that. Equally, there will always be someone who is smarter, more talented, more accomplished, more X and more Y than I am. The only person it’s helpful for me to compare myself to is me, yesterday.

2. I focus on who I want to be more than what I want to achieve.

Unhooking my self-worth from external achievement is still a work in progress, but one of the things I’ve found most helpful is focusing on the bigger picture. Sometimes this looks like asking myself, “How important is this particular thing going to be to me in ten years’ time?” (Usual answer: not very!). More often than not, it involves shifting from thinking about doing to being.

While many of us place a huge amount of stock on external achievement, there are usually many variables beyond our control that influence the outcome of a situation. Even if we do our best and do everything right, we might still feel “not good enough” because those external variables mean we didn’t get the gold star or top prize.

What we do have control over, however, are the qualities we embody. When I find myself slipping into “not good enough” thoughts, I find it helpful to stop and ask myself: Who do I want to be today? This reminds me I want to show up in my life as a creator, not as a victim, with compassion, not judgment, and calmly and wholeheartedly, rather than fighting an internal war.

3. I focus on all the things I’m getting right (as well as the things I think I’m getting wrong).

My inner critic is a champ at highlighting all the things I’m doing wrong and all the ways I could improve, usually with a big helping of shame and judgment on the side. A big part of my journey has been learning to turn down the volume on this part of my internal dialogue and turn up the volume on the part I call my inner mentor.

My inner mentor is also good at pointing out things I could improve, but she does it with a very different tone.

She is also a lot more question-orientated (while my inner critic throws statements around like confetti) and tends to ask open-ended queries like “How could you approach that situation differently in the future?”

She also balances constructive criticism with acknowledging all the things I’m getting right too.

I encourage my inner mentor with simple exercises like keeping a “have done” list (as opposed to a “to do” list) and taking time each week to reflect on positive experiences, new opportunities, things I feel proud of, and lessons learned.

4. I remember just because I think something doesn’t mean it’s true.

Like my companion at the beginning of this post, I can feel very alone when I’m in the grip of a “not good enough” episode.

During these times, and especially with the prevalence of curated social media feeds, it’s easy to look at other people’s lives and make all kinds of assumptions and judgments about how well things are going for them, even feeling a teensy bit resentful about how challenging our life feels compared to how easy theirs seems.

Having spent the best part of the last decade working with emotional support in one capacity or another, I’ve realized that “good enough” is not the result of circumstance, achievement, money, or success.

The Latin root of the word compassion is “suffering with.” Everyone feels like or fears they are not good enough at some point or another. Fearing that we are not good enough doesn’t make us not good enough; it just makes us human.

Remembering this helps me feel less alone, which enables me to start gently challenging that voice and asking “Is that really true?” “What are the other alternatives here?” “How would I respond if my best friend was telling me this?” and “Who would I be without this belief? What would I do differently?”

Finally, I’ve learned there isn’t a “one size fits all” way to feel comfortable and enough within ourselves. There are many different paths to the same destination, and the right path for us is the one that fits our values, feels truthful, and helps us connect with whom we truly are.

How do you navigate feeling not good enough in your own life? I’d love to hear what you find most helpful, so leave a comment and share your thoughts.

June 26, 2016
Developing Confidence Without Becoming Arrogant

“What you think of yourself is much more important than what people think of you.” ~Seneca

I used to labor under the gross illusion that confidence was elusive, like a Sasquatch.

Or fleeting, like a shooting star.

It’s there for a moment, then poof! Gone.

Did I dream it?

To deepen this illusion, I believed that only a select few were anointed with confidence by an unseen hand upon their birth (this same mysterious hand also granted natural athletic ability), leaving the rest of us to muddle through, solely reliant on glancing blows of confidence that would hopefully show up when desperately necessary.

Time to do an oral report on The Louisiana Purchase? Let’s hope confidence decides to make a rare appearance—or I’m doomed behind that faux-wood podium!

To further confuse matters, I believed that any acquired confidence was the result of validation and admiration from others.

Perhaps this seed was planted when I heard the phrase: “Insert appropriate term here gave me/her/him confidence.”

The idea that confidence is “given” I apparently took somewhat literally, because I spent years looking for it outside of myself.

I know now that this is a fairly ridiculous passel of assumptions and just about as opposite of legitimate confidence as one can get.

I also used to think that it took arrogance to be confident and that confidence and arrogance were just about one and the same.

I didn’t have the first clue about how to be confident, and then as an added complication, I had a hang up around not even wanting to take confidence for a spin for fear of seeming arrogant.

Who does she think she is?!

My first big wake-up call to true confidence occurred twenty years ago in a small downtown bar in New York City.

My friends invited me out to see a new band, yet I felt like a “tag along.”

This, of course, was in my head due to the silly soap-opera story of outsider unworthiness I told myself. (Please refer to my previous post You Are Enough for more backstory.)

In said band, one member also happened to be a well-known movie actor.

It was a cold winter’s night and the bar was not crowded, so when the band’s set was over, the actor came over to say “hello.”

He was very friendly and a stranger to most of us, except to the friend of my friends who initially extended the invitation. They worked together and were making introductions.

He pleasantly greeted each of us one by one.

I was last in line to shake his hand and by the time he got to me, I said in the lamest most dismissive downtrodden way imaginable, “I’m Alix.”

But I might as well have said, “I’m an afterthought.”

Or, “Bleh.”

He pounced on me in the best possible way.

“Now don’t say it like that!” he reproached.

He then mimicked me, “’I’m Alix.”

As he did so, he was looking me straight in the eyes, perfectly impersonating my shruggy sad-sack introduction.

His manner was so charmingly disarming that I cracked up laughing.

I couldn’t believe how I had come across!

His impromptu coaching continued, “You have to say it more like, “I’M ALIX!” I mean, come on, YOU’RE Alix! I should be excited to meet YOU!”

No one had ever spoken to me like this before and it woke me up to the cultivated patheticism that had hitherto dwelled in a broad blind spot in my unconscious.

Then, Mr. Actor made me practice introducing myself again, this time with vigorous hand shaking and committed eye contact.

As I engaged in the exercise, I could hardly keep a straight face.

This guy was giving such an unexpected gift by showing me back to myself.

With his light and humorous method, I immediately snapped out of my “no one wants to meet me” mindset.

I was liberated.

He taught me not only how to act confidently, but without realizing it, he revealed to me a clear way in which one can be confident without being arrogant.

He was confident, but he also didn’t take himself seriously. He made me feel I mattered and took the time to let me know.

This was a five-minute conversation that altered the course of my life.

Ever since that snowy night, I have been consciously aware of the energy that I present to others.

Present? Check.

Eye contact? Check.

Firm handshake? Check.

Engaged? Check.

Sincere? Check.

After my no-confidence rehabilitation, I can tell you that I may not have always felt 100% confident in every single instance, but I decided to appear as though I did.

This is the definition of “fake it ’til you make it.”

I soon discovered that more I “acted” confident, the more authentically confident I felt.

I finally felt worthy, and worthiness is the prime ingredient of true confidence.

True confidence begins with, or I should say, within us.

It isn’t about stuff like success, rewards, accolades, or (and this may be the most salient point) the perception of others. It’s about the perception we have about ourselves.

Only we can “give” confidence to ourselves.

And here is the big secret:

If we embrace our own worthiness…

Well, then we are worthy.

It really is that simple.

Now I didn’t (and don’t) go around bellowing, “I’M ALIX!!” to strangers, but I certainly no longer feel I have to apologize for showing up.

I also recognize that since I come from a place of love and kindness, I probably will not be mistaken for being arrogant.

And if I am, then I’m all right with that, since that is really about “them,” not me.

I cannot, nor would I ever try, to control how others perceive me.

How others see us is really up to them.

Here is my mini-handbook to determine the differences between arrogance and confidence so you can feel confident that you’re not arrogant.

Arrogance is a mask for insecurities.

1. When people are covering their fears, they must work extra-hard to convince not only themselves, but everyone around them that they’re confident, instead of posturing.

2. This kind of bravado is a guise created by the well-meaning, albeit a misguided ego to protect what it considers to be the fragile eco-system of the mind.

3. Arrogance also always louder and more competitive than actual confidence, because it constantly fears for its survival.

True confidence is quiet (think Ninja).

1. This quiet is a result of honest self-evaluation, tough questions, and feeling worthy to be on the planet.

2. Confidence, once developed, then means we can be cozy—I’m talking couch-like—comfortable in our own skin, where the once pesky ego is now on a constant vacation.

3. True confidence is not competitive. In fact, it prefers to make space for others to speak their minds without feeling the need to jump in and course correct the conversation, the plan, or the route.

4. True confidence also breeds contentment, because we no longer exhaust ourselves trying to prove things to others or ourselves. Phew!

5. True confidence means that we continually enjoy our own company, because at the end of the metaphoric day, we’re the ones with whom we spend the most time.

6. True confidence also means being willing to dork out, be uncool, and be yourself whenever and wherever necessary.

I will be forever grateful to that friendly actor, who was so wonderfully confident in himself that he had no qualms about sparking true confidence within me.

Shy man image via Shutterstock

August 12, 2014