This was the answer.
You are enough.
I know that voice inside your head disagrees.
She pushes, yells, nags, her never-ending voice stern in your ear:
If only you were thinner. If only you had straighter hair. Bigger boobs. A butt in the right place. Smoother skin and fuller lips and right sized eyes and a nose job.
If only you knew how to cook. If only you had a cleaner toilet. If only you played with your kids more. You petted your cat more. Took out the trash on time and weren’t running out as the garbage truck pulled up at 6:35 am on Monday morning.
If only you were smarter. If only you were more interesting. Funner. Sexier. If only you knew how to pull off a short skirt and a low cut blouse and knew how to give a better blow job.
If only you were good at business. If only you hadn’t wasted money on that program. Or that one. Or that one. If only you had a bigger list. Started earlier. Got their notice. If only they read your inquiry. Signed your book. Gave you the gig.
Then you would be perfect.
Then you would be beautiful. Rich. Happy. Everyone would desire you and respect you and want you and pay attention to you. Everyone would love you.
If only you were perfect, you would be worthy. Deserving. Acceptable.
But … she lies.
That voice is mean. Sneaky. The speaker of half-truths and evil seductions.
She kicks us when we are down, uses the criticisms of they against us, fuel for her incestuous raping of our light, our magnificence, our souls.
But underneath her screaming there is a tiny whisper from the infinite.
That voice speaks:
There is nothing wrong with you.
You are not defective. You are not broken. You are not a failure. You are not doomed.
You are a work in progress.
Yes, you have made mistakes. Yes, there are areas where you can grow, weaknesses to temper, messages you’ve not yet found the courage to speak.
But even so.
As you are right now. This exact second.
You are enough.
You are worth love.
You are deserving of happiness. Satisfaction. Peace. Fun. Success. Ecstasy.
And the biggest secret of all?
You don’t need that mean voice.
That mean voice is not your friend.
I know. She’s been the task master.
Pushing you, whipping you to get out of bed and try to force each day. She has you convinced that if she was not nagging, making, “motivating” – you would just lie there goalless, deoderantless, unplucked and unshaved, gouging on cheetoos and watching never-ending 1990s countdowns on VH-1 surrounded by mountains of unfiled paper and unrecycled cans and undonated collectables.
The secret is … you would.
You would get out of bed without her.
You would get out of bed. Not out of fear. But out of love.
Out of perseverance. Commitment. Excitement. Joy in the amazingness you’d be able to create for those you care about.
No, I haven’t figured out how to get rid of her. Sigh.
And even though I know she’s not my friend, I still have my off days when she’s the only voice I’m listening to, when she kicks me when I’m down and I spend hours crying until someone amazing rescues me with a text stream of sanity or an insistent phone call.
In the meanwhile … other voice, the quiet, whispering, truth-speaking voice inside of me want you to know … if you have that mean voice in your head – you’re not alone. You don’t need her.
You are enough.
Do you also have a mean voice in your head? What ridiculous, hurtful, half-truths does it spout to you?
What do you do when the mean voice gets too loud?
I’d love to hear from you below!