I have a ring that says, “I am enough.” There is a sticker on my refrigerator that says, “You have always been enough.” And, if I ever get another tattoo, it might just be a vine with flowers, spelling the word “enough.”
Apparently, one reminder isn’t “enough.” 🙂 (Cue chuckle)
“Enoughness” has been a theme for me for most of my life. I’ve talked about it with more than one therapist and more than one Zen teacher. I’ve “sat” with the uncomfortable sensations of “not-enoughness” during many meditation retreats, written about it, and tried to understand the origin of this pernicious belief.
Though I’m certain that wasn’t the beginning, I can trace at least part of it back to when I was 12.
It was summer between sixth and seventh grade, when I took up jogging with my dad. We ran every day—or, more accurately, at 10 at night to survive the New Orleans heat. We started by running from one streetlight to the next, worked our way up to a mile, and were running 10Ks within months.
When I returned to school, my body had changed. I was leaner and fit. And people noticed. A lot.
Friends and, more disturbingly (yes, I meant to write that), even teachers commented about my changed appearance. I received all kinds of attention about how great I looked. Mind you, I wasn’t heavy before I started running. I was a average weight and shape.
Though of course I enjoyed the attention, I vividly remember wondering: What was wrong with me before? If this version of me was worthy of so much attention and approval, what did that say about this same girl three months earlier? Nothing has changed internally; just my shell.
This experience was the beginning of a complicated relationship with weight and exercise and of something bigger that took root: The idea that I was not inherently enough. That there was a better version of me I needed to become in order to be seen.
I wonder how many of you can trace your own version of “not-enoughness” back to moments like this: A comment about your appearance, being picked or left out, a parent’s praise or criticism. Such moments, though seemingly innocuous, can have a lasting impact.
For me, the specifics of my insufficiency changed, but not the pursuit: Straight A’s, being in the popular group, advanced degrees, a prestigious career, leadership roles, etc.
And I know I’m hardly alone in this. For so many women, “enoughness” can become a lifelong measuring stick. Are we good enough partners, daughters, mothers, workers, friends, volunteers? Are we attractive enough? Successful enough? Generous enough?
Being stellar at everything is, of course, impossible. It’s also a perfect setup for failure. And failure gives that little not-enough voice exactly the ammunition it’s looking for.
And even if we somehow managed to excel at everything, it still wouldn’t quiet that inner voice for long. Because being “enough” is a moving target when we’re looking outside ourselves for proof of it. We just keep raising the bar.
Midlife has definitely softened my relationship with all of this. I care far less about what other people think of me and I’ve mostly stopped using externally imposed measuring sticks of success. I’m much more interested in someone’s inner world than their accomplishments.
But “not-enoughness” is sneaky. Like us, it gets more sophisticated with age. For me, especially as I approached 60, it became: Have I done enough with my life? Have I served enough? Made enough of an impact? Helped enough people?
I was existentially grappling with this last year, especially around the release of my book which I hoped would reach and help more women, when along came cancer.
And with my diagnosis, came more external validation of my worth than I could ever have imagined. Love poured in. People showed up for me in extraordinary ways—family, friends, acquaintances, people I hadn’t heard from in years, people who knew me through my work. I received messages telling me what I had meant to them, how my words or work had impacted their lives, and how much I had inspired them.
In some ways, I received the very evidence I’d spent a lifetime unconsciously seeking: I matter. I’ve made a difference.This gorgeous avalanche of love and affirmation was—and continues to be—one of the most beautiful experiences of my life.
If external validation could ever settle the question of “enoughness,” surely this would have done it. So, did it permanently cure my lifelong “enoughness” issue? Of course not.
I still sometimes compare myself to others, want someone’s approval, or wonder whether something I’ve done (like this blog for example) is good enough. And here’s why:
This whole not-enough head trip is based on a faulty premise that we aren’t enough to begin with. The problem isn’t that I lack proof of my “enoughness.” The problem is believing I needed it in the first place.
What if—newsflash—we were enough all along? Not because we’ve accomplished enough, been loved by enough people, or finally become the version of ourselves we thought we were supposed to be. But because “enoughness” was never something to achieve. It was never a prize waiting for us at the end of a lifetime of striving. Maybe that’s what I’ve been trying to understand all these years.
I’ll still keep the ring and the sticker. Maybe I’ll even get that tattoo someday. But not because I need to convince myself that I’m enough. I’ll keep them as reminders that I always was.
So, let’s stop looking for evidence of our “enoughness” or “not-enoughness.” Let’s stop trying to prove our worth. Let’s declare that enough is enough.
Because each of us—intrinsically—has always been enough.
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Shayna Kaufmann, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist based in San Diego.