You’re so much more than good enough.
~ Sarah McLachlan
Thursday night we had the first rehearsal for this year’s Listen to Your Mother show. Did I mention I’m doing that again? Because I totally am. I know. I honestly can’t believe I was chosen for a second year in a row, but apparently the casting director is suffering from some sort of brain-wasting disease, because there I am on the cast list.
Anyway. It was my first time meeting this group of women—over a dozen smart, talented writers—and even though I listened to my favorite nerve-soothing Pandora folk music station on the ride over, my heart couldn’t quite decide if it wanted to reside in my throat or my belly as I knocked on the door.
I was the third woman to arrive, and the other two seemed perfectly nice. We made small talk and waited for the others.
And then the fourth woman arrived.
“Hi, I’m Jenny-” I started, and she cut me off.
“Oh, you don’t have to introduce yourself. You’re like a celebrity to me. I know who you are,” she very nearly gushed.
Wait, what? A celebrity?
Apparently this woman, who appeared perfectly sane, is some kind of…fan of my writing? I was flabbergasted. Actually, I still am. I mean, I enjoyed the Listen to Your Mother experience last year, but I certainly never expected this sort of reaction.
Which brings me to the point of my post. I know—logically—so very many things about myself. I know that I’m smart. I’m fairly certain that I’m funny. I have a gift for writing. I’m musically quite talented. I could keep going, but you get the idea.
But I believe I am fundamentally flawed.
Now, if you were to ask me if good old Bob down the street has something fundamentally wrong with him, I’d be the first one to tell you that we’re all children of God and God doesn’t make mistakes.
I cannot apply this logic to myself.
I faced this room full of women who are smart, gifted, funny, and talented on so many levels, and I felt…less than. I felt like no matter what I said, no matter what I did, it would never be good enough, because I will never be good enough.
I will never be a good enough mother.
I will never be a good enough wife.
I will never be a good enough person.
The next day, my newly-discovered fan sent a friend request on Facebook. Her profile picture showed a smiling face with a hand held up next to it, and on that hand was written, “I’m Imperfect & I’m Enough.”
The thought struck me in the shower (because let’s admit it, all the best inspiration occurs in the bathroom)—maybe, just maybe, it’s not about being good enough.
Maybe I just need to accept that I’m enough.
I’m definitely imperfect. I’m far from good enough. But I am enough.
And you, out there reading this? This applies to you as well. You are enough. Whatever is going on in your life, wherever you are…you are enough.
Thanks for hanging in there with me. It means more than I’ll ever be able to adequately express.