I hear these two words and choke on their spiky edges, immediately, as a thick, metallic taste floods my mouth.

Good enough.

The thing I fear I’ll never be, the thing I’ve tried so hard to become.

Good enough.

Tears threaten to rain down all around me. My heartbeat quickens, climbing to the jagged heights of panic.

Stop. Wait.

My heart perks up and tells me to pause for a tiny slice of a moment. So I do.

And I wonder…

What does it mean to be good enough? Good enough for who? Good enough for what?

Good enough for the imaginary standards that exist in the dark recesses of my mind?

Good enough for society’s f*cked up ideals?

Do I have to be a good girl to be enough?

Do I have to prove my worth to the world or to myself, daily? Hourly?

‘Cause, you know what? I’m not interested in doing that anymore.

Change is in the air and I feel a refreshing breeze on my sweaty, tired cheeks.

I reflect for a moment, because this good enough crap has always felt like a terrifying goal—an invisible, yet all-powerful carrot being waved in front of me.

I’ve been chasing after it for years, thinking if I could just look better and be better and find a great job and a great relationship, then I’d finally feel good enough.

It always meant changing, improving, transforming.

It never meant being me.

It never meant sitting here, baring my soul and being vulnerable as sh*t.

But the truth is—that’s exactly what I crave.

What do you crave?

Come with me.

Let’s throw out this good enough bullshit—it’s riddled with poison and expectations.

Let’s wipe the slate clean.

In this bold, stormy state of renewal, a new inner mantra is born.

Do you hear it tugging at your soul’s shoulders?

Say it with me.

I am whole just as I am.

I am whole with broken shards in my heart, scratches on my soul and pain of the past running through my mind.

I am whole when I’m happy, sad, anxious or lost. I am whole in success, anger, failure, and struggle.

I am whole just as I am.

As we say these words, our bodies settle into stardust rivers of a thousand smiles.

We can finally relax.

We can stop trying so hard.

We can enjoy being alive.

With fresh, rejuvenated eyes, let us see that our self-worth is not something contingent on success or productivity or a good mood.

Nope.

Our self-worth lives inside, like a hearty, fragrant vine that can’t die, even in the toughest, cruelest of winters.

To be worthy is our birthright.

To be whole is our destiny.

To remember our wholeness is freedom; juicy, magical freedom.

It opens locked doors and ignites golden opportunities.

Say it with me, softly, gently.

I am whole, just as I am.

Then, scream it, fiercely, loudly.

I am whole, just as I am!

Yes!

Say it until your entire body breaks out in a dance.

Say it from the powerful depths of your ecstatic howling.

Say until you know it to be true with every raw fiber of your being.

Damn, it’s so beautiful!

We are whole.

Just

as

we

are.

Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Katarina Tavčar

Photo: Mateus Lunardi Dutra/Flickr