I am enough.
I am enough.
I am enough.
That is two truths and a lie.
I am a kick-ass mom. Recently I’ve learned that it is not only okay, but necessary, to admit that. My amazing daughter is my world. She is the coolest kid you could ever meet and I know that I had a hand in that. The right balance of discipline, role modeling, and giving her space to learn on her own is what I practice daily. I don’t really know HOW I am raising such a great young lady. I don’t have a formula for it. It is not something that I can say that I struggle with or researched. It is just who I am. Way too soon she will be out on her own- so for now, I spend as much time as I can with her. We laugh together, we cry together, we play games and watch movies together. We cheer for WWE wrestling together and we practice mindful breathing together. We are weird together. Every mother’s “mom” experience is different. Mine is awesome.
The truth is, for my daughter, I am enough.
Just like Stuart Smalley on his Saturday Night Live skit, I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and “doggone it people like me!” I am a Badass- another thing that I recently learned is essential to admit. People want to be around me. People want to work with me. My boss recently told me that I have “a thing”. He said that he knows he’ll never find someone else with that “thing”. I don’t know what that “thing” is, but I’ve got it. I light up rooms- I know this. I am proud of and happy about this truth. I am a damn good employee and I am a damn good friend. Don’t get me wrong- there is always room for improvement. I am working on being a better listener. I am working specifically on remembering to say “Good Morning” before I jump into whatever it is that I want from someone. I am actively improving as a person. I follow the Golden Rule. I do unto others as I wish they’d do unto me. I am kind… I am empathic… I feel for everyone and I act on injustices. Affirmations, self-help books, meditation… I do it all to continue to develop… and its working. I am a good person and I’m getting better every day.
The truth is, for other people, I am enough.
If I could get rid of one modern day invention, it would be that piece of reflective glass in front of me. There is one in the bedroom, the bathroom, the hallway, the car, the store; every single place I go has a mirror. I am fat. That is simply a fact. It’s not up for argument or discussion. I don’t need anyone telling me that I am or am not their definition of fat- I can see it in that mirror. I’m on a journey, though.
One that, in the end, I will find the strength to be okay with that damn mirror.
I will figure out how to not judge my character by my reflection.
I will practice, and eventually master, the mindset necessary to define myself by my heart and not by my mirror. It is perplexing and discouraging to work through the fact that I have a goal for who I want to be, the kind of person that I strive to be- and I’m achieving that goal. That’s a truth.
Why then, do I still internally define myself by the reflection in that damn mirror? How do I unlearn that? How can “I am enough” be so very true for me in all aspects of my life yet so very much a lie when I’m standing in front of a damn mirror? This is not about losing weight or changing myself physically. That is not a part of my objective. I want to continue to be a kick-ass mom and a badass friend.
I certainly do not want to pass on to my daughter that a person’s self-love is defined by their body image.
I am dedicated to this journey so much so that I made the lifelong commitment to “I Am Enough” by tattooing it on my inner wrist. It is written in my own handwriting because I don’t need to be someone else’s Enough, I need to be my own Enough. It is a daily reminder to read it, speak it and believe it. Some days I am more successful at this than other days, but that tattoo will never let me forget that single solitary truth.
My daughter loves me. My family and friends love me. Just. The. Way. That. I. Am.
I even love me, I just don’t like looking at me in that damn mirror.
In front of reflective glass, I am not enough.
But I’m working on that. That’s the truth.
photo credit: Danielle Carnahan Zummo