More than Enough

There are times in life where I feel like it’s easier to be hard on ourselves than forgiving; when it’s easier to point out all our shortcomings than to accept that we are truly exceptional at some things. Lately, I have been finding myself going through this and I am having a hard time coming out on the other side of it.

A few years ago, I went through something that caused a great deal of emotional turmoil for me. It seems like it was so long ago in some ways, like yesterday in others, but let’s just say that I have never fully recovered from the emotional roller coaster ride I experienced over the next few years.

I found myself doubting myself in ways that I had never doubted myself before. I lost my voice. Instead of the loud, commanding one I used to confidently wield, I found myself retreating, uncomfortable with the sound of my voice or my words. I had become a timid shell of myself. In an effort to anesthetize, I drank too much and made bad hair decisions, none of which helped elevate my confidence.

That doubt made its way into the many corners of my life, working its way into all of the areas I felt encompassed me as a person. It permeated through what I thought I knew about myself and made me question everything.

Where was I in my life? What had I really accomplished? Was I successful? Was I doing something that I thought was valuable? Hell, was I valuable?

The thing with doubt is that it’s a powerful thing. It worms its way into your head and can make you think the darnedest things about yourself. You start to stumble in areas where you once sailed by. People who once thought your capabilities were limitless start to doubt you too, for doubt can be contagious. After all, if it’s obvious you don’t believe in yourself, why should anyone else?

A few weeks ago, I had my twentieth High School Reunion. I think that having this coincide with a time in my life where I didn’t feel like my feet were grounded firmly in the ground was not the easiest thing, but life is not perfect and I understand that most of my fellow classmates must have their own crap that they have to navigate. I felt like I was really, really hard on myself on the weeks leading up to the event.

Nothing was right.

I didn’t feel or look my best.

I was not altogether satisfied with where I am in my career.

I questioned whether I was a good mother.

Everything was under a microscope – not by anybody else, but by me.

I used to be in Project Management and one of the things you always have to manage towards on projects is scope creep. Making sure that the client doesn’t try to expand the breadth of the project beyond what is committed in the contract. Scope creep always happens. It’s human nature to want to push the boundaries to see how much more you can get out of something. But I was starting to realize that the expectations I placed against myself were seriously verging on a different kind of scope creep, because nobody had ever defined the scope of what I was supposed to be.

I think the standards that I started to set for myself were unrealistic and overwhelming. I was setting myself up for failure and disappointment. Making mental comparisons with others where it was inevitable that I would fall short, forever focusing on what I lacked versus what I had.

When I take a step back and regain perspective, I always come back with the same conclusion.

You’re so goddamn hard on yourself.

And it’s not doing anybody any favors. Particularly myself.

I think that it comes down to this. It’s one thing to set a bar for yourself on standards you wish to maintain in your life, but it’s another to set the bar so high that you can never enjoy what you have. The journey to getting what we want in life can be a rich one, but it starts to lose it’s luster when all you see is the ever changing destination and you don’t allow yourself to enjoy the fact that you may have already arrived.

So I’m working on that. Working on cutting myself the same slack that I cut for others who touch my life. Perfection is overrated and the quest to achieve it is exhausting, frustrating and ultimately, unattainable.

Sometimes, the kindest thing we can do for ourselves is acknowledge, that we are, in fact, enough. So much more than enough.

XO,

Kiran

Photography by Tell Chronicles – www.tellchronicles.com

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