I was always that little girl who just… couldn’t… reach.
Never tall enough. Never cool enough. Never rich enough. Never… enough.
And it continued, as these things do. Man after man who claimed I loved “too much” but somehow never enough to hold their gaze, time after time of lying frozen in bed because I was uncertain how I’d be able to afford food for the day, moment after moment of watching new wings receive recognition while my tired old ones were forgetting how to fly…
Yes, that little girl is still alive inside.
But there comes a point of sinking into this perception, where you realise that that perception could be a lie. That limitations are sometimes self-imposed, and that sometimes, we are bound to the ground by shackles we created from echoes that we could’ve released.
These thoughts of limitation, are they truly yours? Or are they mum’s, or dad’s, or some other influential figure who chose to let their blindness to themselves deter you from your dreams?
I ask you now, one never-enough child to another, heart to heart:
Is it that you are not enough, or is that you can only be enough when you learn to say… “Enough”…?