What Is Your “I’m Not Enough” Telling You?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

“Why wasn’t I enough for him?”

I posed this question to my journal soon after discovering that my then-husband had obtained a new wife.

 

“What does she have that I don’t?”

I asked of the page, not expecting an answer.

 

“How could he do this to someone he loved?”

The words perforated the page like his actions pierced my heart.

 

“He threw me away like so much garbage!”

My tears fell on the page, causing the words to bleed down the paper.

 

I felt worthless, discarded. I wore this self-image like a corset, hidden from public view yet restricting my movements nonetheless.

I rationalized that if I had been a good enough wife, he would not have secured another. I believed that if I had only been a better partner, he would not have left. Even while publicly blaming him, I secretly blamed myself. Convinced that I was not enough.

My “I’m not enough” taunted me when I faced my fear of going downhill, telling me that I would fall. It threatened that I would never find someone to love me. It followed me into dating, acting surprised when anyone was interested in a second date.

I carried this feeling into my second marriage, determined for a time to be a “perfect” wife. And fearful that when I fell short of this impossible goal, I was risking abandonment again.

My now-husband picked up on this underlying anxiety and reassured me that I was enough. Imperfections and all.

But it still took time for me to really believe it.

And even though it’s largely gone in the context of my marriage, it still haunts me at other times.

It still whispers every time I press the “publish” button, apprehensive about the reactions. I have to work to quiet it when I face criticism. And I still have to tell it to shut up when it tries to take everything personally and assume the responsibility for everybody’s happiness.

The voice isn’t so loud now, but it still exists. It drives me to achieve, which would be good if it didn’t have the aura of fear around it. It encourages me to always strive to be better, do better. I have to constantly work to find that balance between believing that I AM enough and that I can always be more.

When you’re rejected by someone you value, it’s not easy to separate yourself from their actions. It’s hard to trust that you ARE enough.

In the beginning, I felt like I needed to prove my worth TO my ex (even though he was out of the picture). It had a, “I’ll show him” motivation behind it.

And then one day I realized that I was allowing a person of questionable character to determine my worth, which is pretty much like letting a known embezzler set the market price of gold.

If I didn’t value his opinion about anything else, why would I let him decide that I was not enough?

I felt pretty silly.

And so I stopped trying to prove to him that I was worthy.

But I still felt a need to prove it to myself. That little voice of insecurity still pushing through like a pessimistic parrot on my shoulder.

So that’s where I am now – working to let go of that residual feeling of not being enough.

Recognizing the voice for what it is – a lie based on fear.

And learning to trust that I. Am. Enough.

 

Do you ever have the feeling that you’re not enough? What does that voice try to tell you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Staying With the The Devil You Know

Posted on by stilllearning2b
devil you know

Is it better to stay with the devil you know?

The Monty Hall problem is a famous puzzle in mathematics. In this dilemma, a contestant on a gameshow is attempting to correctly choose the one door out of of three that hides a prize. The contestant selects door and does not open it. The host then opens door three, revealing that there is no prize. The player is then given the option to stick with their initial choice or switch to the second door.

Most people intuitively feel that remaining with the initial choice of door one is advantageous or that the contestant now has an equal chance with either door one or two. Mathematically, however, the player has a better opportunity of winning (67% chance) if they change their selection.

When this solution was first published, the outcry was enormous, well beyond what would be expected for a math-related article. So why were people so resistant to the idea of letting go and taking their chances on something new?

Once people make a decision or arrive at a solution, they take on a sense of ownership of that idea. And once they possess it, they become wary of letting it go. In a sense, releasing the choice becomes a loss. And we often act to avoid loss.

The first choice for the contestant is knee-jerk. At that point, all of the doors have an equal chance of containing the prize. But once the second choice is offered, the situation has changed. Inaction is tempting both because it needs no overcoming of inertia and accepting a loss due to a failure to act is easier than accepting a loss that arises directly from an action.

And then of course, there’s ego that has a difficult time admitting that maybe the first choice wasn’t the right pick after all.

And all of this simply to avoid leaving behind a door that may not even contain a prize.

We face a version of this dilemma in life. Except then, we know what is behind the door. And yet sometimes we struggle to choose another option even when we know that what lies behind the door we picked is certainly no prize.

I think we’ve all chosen the devil we know at times. Maybe you stayed in a job too long that wasn’t a good fit. Perhaps you tolerated an abusive situation after the pattern became clear. Or possibly you have clung to a self-narrative long past its expiration date.

We justify our decision to stay with the status quo –

“At least I know what to expect.”

“I know how to navigate this situation and I don’t now how to do the other.”

“Maybe this is the best I can do.”

“I still have hope that this situation can change.”

It;s scary to leave what you know. It’s hard to admit that maybe your first choice wasn’t such a good one. It’s so hard to let go of one selection when you don’t yet know where the other will lead.

But if you know that the door you chose isn’t right for you, maybe it’s time to select another. After all, that one might just hide the prize you’ve been looking for.

Forget the Casserole! What People in Crisis REALLY Need

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When bad things happen to good people, the calvary arrives soon after with food and flowers. Level surfaces soon fill with cards expressing condolences and well wishes. Money is collected to help with both normal and unexpected expenses. Friends and family all want to help and being unable to change the circumstances, they respond with whatever loving gestures they can.

At first, the attention is overwhelming. The outpouring of affection comforting. But eventually, the letters stop arriving. The casseroles are consumed and their dishes returned. The dried flowers have been relegated to the bin. The calls to check in are fewer and further between and when they do occur, their is an undertone of impatience that the crisis wasn’t over once the initial offerings faded.

And yet the need is still there.

The loved ones still care, but they’re busy with their own lives. Consumed with their own problems. And perhaps most of all, they find it difficult and uncomfortable to sit for any extent of time with the harsh realities that life can bring. It’s easier to simply pretend it isn’t there.

Our culture is uncomfortable with grief. With pain. With anger that rises unprovoked. We’re expected to be gracious at the onslaught and then to suffer in silence so as to avoid the discomfort of those around us.

Speaking Out: Why Hiding Your Struggles Only Makes Them Worse

The initial outpouring of support is needed. It’s the transport when you cannot manage any movements unassisted. But it’s rarely enough.

Both because grieving does not speak calendar and because it’s a journey that often requires assistance.

Which is why I propose another way to support those going through crisis – a contribution to a well-being and mental health fund.

These monies would be earmarked towards services and modalities that help support mental health and healing – therapy, medications, retreats, specialized trauma care, mind-body practices  – whatever is deemed applicable and helpful by the recipient.

The benefits are multifold. First, it helps to normalize the idea that attention towards mental health is important and should carry no more stigma than care towards the physical body. It allows the professionals to pick up where the first responders left off, helping the person move through their grief and pain. Contributions to a fund signify that grief is a process, not an event. It allows that it will be ongoing for some time. And most practically, most insurance plans only address mental health needs at a minimum and the fund can help to make up the difference. A mental health fund is a gift that truly can keep on giving because it will help people regain their lives after crisis.

I’d love to see an app or website designed and marketed around this idea. More of a Please Comfort Me instead of a Please Fund Me. Any programming-minded takers?

 

I Do: Why Choosing the Right Person Is Only the Beginning

Posted on by stilllearning2b

 

When I was initially asked what I learned from my first marriage (and what I would do differently going forward), my response was a simple, “I would choose a different man.”

Which was certainly important. (Goodness knows, I wasn’t about to marry the first one again!).

But it wasn’t everything.

In fact, if my lessons from the divorce had ended there, I fully believe that I would have ended up repeating the exercise.

Because choosing the right person is important.

But it’s only the beginning.

The early stages of a relationship can be like a mirage glimmering on the horizon, promising a perfect future. A utopia after the long search.

“Finally,” you think,”This is the one.”

And then you move closer. And you begin to see the reality of the person. The veneer of perfection begins to flake off and their flaws begin to show.

“That’s okay,” you think, “Nobody’s perfect.”

And you learn how to work with the inherent flaws and how to maximize each other’s strengths.

And then something changes. Maybe a partner begins to withdraw. Or external pressures stress the relationship. The person you married (or thought you married) no longer seems to be the person in front of you.

“Who is this person?” you ask, “Who did I marry?”

But that’s the wrong question to ask.

Because choosing the right person is only the beginning.

____

Think back to the last time you were in the market for a new apartment or house. You crafted a list of the characteristics you needed and those you wanted. You set a budget and drew boundary lines. And then came the search, probably longer and more frustrating than you anticipated. No one house was perfect. And in the end, you probably ended up compromising on at least a few of your must-haves.

If your home was of the move-in-ready variety, you probably experienced a honeymoon period where nothing needed repair or updating. Yet every home in time requires attention and effort in order to keep it in working order.

Those needed repairs are not a sign that you chose the wrong house or that it’s time to put up a For Sale sign. Assuming that you initially picked an appropriate home (and not a one bedroom for a family of five), it’s an indication that some changes need to be made. And changes are a normal part of life.

____

When we place an inordinate amount of emphasis on choosing the right person, we’re ignoring everything that comes after.

When we’re relaxing after the hard work of finding the one and neglecting the effort that goes into keeping the one.

When we put too much importance on initial characteristics, we open ourselves up to disappointment when circumstances alter those traits.

And perhaps most importantly, when we pay too much attention to finding the right person, we’re ignoring our part in being the right person.

____

When I first stated that I would chose a different man, I was not yet ready to see and accept my role in my first marriage. I saw my responsibility as beginning and ending with making a poor initial selection.

And yes, I royally screwed that one up. But my role in the relationship dynamic didn’t end there. And until I was ready to tackle what comes after making a choice, I wasn’t ready to try again.

By all means, choose wisely.

And then recognize that choosing is just the beginning.

It’s what comes after that truly defines you and your marriage.

 

Forget tall, dark and handsome, these are the traits that REALLY matter in a mate.

Learning from my mistakes – critical ways my second husband is different from my first.

And sometimes we do choose poorly. Own up to it. Learn from it.

 

 

Giving Candy to Strangers and Coal to Our Partners

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Quick.

Who do you care most about in your life?

Who are you the nicest to in your life?

Be honest, are they the same person?

They’re often not.

You can see this dynamic clearly in teenagers and their parents (especially with mothers and daughters – sorry, mom!), but it happens in romantic partnerships too.

At first glance, it seems counterintuitive. After all, shouldn’t love and kindness function in tandem? Ideally, yes. But the reality is often more complex.

I’m not talking about abuse here (here’s a post on that particular dynamic), rather, I’m addressing the more innocuous and unintententional unkindness that can find its way into relationships.

So why do we so often give candy to strangers and coal to our partners?

Safe Harbor

Have you ever had a negative experience during your day that is then transferred to your partner that evening? We can’t say all of what’s on our minds to the boss, to the policeman who issued the ticket or the difficult client. So we unload it later on the one person that feels safe.

After all, they love us. Sometimes that love makes us feel confident that we can treat them poorly and they’ll still be there. And sometimes, we may treat them poorly in order to test that love.

Your partner becomes your safe harbor and that sense of security can lead to an unintended (and often unnoticed) decrease in kindness. It’s easier to always be on your best behavior when you don’t take things for granted. (One of MANY reasons it’s important to not take your partner for granted!)

Stripping Away the Public Self

When we’re out and about in the world, we project our public selves. In many ways, we present how we want to be perceived (after all, strangers only know what we show them). And it can be exhausting. So when we come home, we peel off that mask along with our trousers and slip on the sweats and let the less edited self fly free.

And when we’re relaxed and less restrained, we are more apt to talk before we think. And sometimes the words that come out are far from kind. Not because we aim to wound, but because we fail to check ourselves as carefully when we’re comfortable.

Add to that the history and inner knowledge we share with our closest people and the results can be quite painful.

Apprehension About Vulnerability

Letting it all show can be a scary feeling. And sometimes, we respond to that defenseless feeling by going on the offense. The baring of the underbelly followed by the baring of the teeth as though saying, “I’ll let you see me, but I’ll wound you before you get too close.”

Preservation of Self

Vulnerability isn’t the only fear that can manifest as unkindness; a concern that you’re losing yourself by becoming too attached to another can also result in unintentional hurtful actions. Pushing away instead of taking a step back.

Heightened Importance

And this is really what it’s all about. Our daily interactions with people at the periphery of our lives are fleeting. Hurtful words or actions are more easily sloughed off and forgotten. We don’t bring in the expectations. The fear. The attachment.

When you have two lives intertwined, there will be some frayed edges and some frayed nerves. Things unmeant will be said and actions may not always match the true feelings beneath.

Yes, your partner is your safe space. But that’s no reason to take them for granted and to treat them as such. Be generous in handing out candy to both strangers and your loved ones. Save the coal for those who really deserve it.