It comes up time and time again: Not a good enough mother/sister/co-worker, not good enough at what I enjoy to join in. Not good enough.
I really struggle with this. When I was young I was brought up with family names who changed the way we think about the world. How could I possibly be as good as they were? I believed that there was no room for me.
We all have our own stories and our own trauma.
I’m not sure the message has sunk in yet for me. I (all of us) are Enough. We are ok. We are all enough.