When A Good Week Still Doesn't Feel Like Enough

Have you ever had one of those really good weeks?

A client said yes. Someone told you that something you'd written made a difference. You finally finished something that had been on your list for weeks.

You felt good about yourself. Maybe even proud.

But how long did that feeling last?

For some of us, it doesn't last nearly long enough. Before we know it, we're looking at what we didn't do. Or we're noticing someone else who seems to be doing so much better. And that old question sneaks back in.

Was it enough?

I've asked myself that question more times than I care to admit.

And I think I know where some of it began.

Weighed in the balance and found wanting

There's a phrase I heard in Sunday School as a little girl that has stayed with me almost my entire life.

"Weighed in the balance and found wanting."

It came from a Bible story about a king who hadn't exactly been doing a wonderful job of being king. The words appeared on a wall, telling him that his reign was coming to an end.

Now, why a little girl would identify with that king, I have no idea. But I did.

Somehow, I took those words personally. I thought that if my life were weighed, I might be found wanting, too.

I wasn't very good at being good. At least, that's what I thought.

And I carried that feeling with me for a long, long time.

I wonder how many of us grew up believing that we had to keep proving we were good enough.

We learned it in school, where good grades brought recognition and poor grades often brought disappointment. We saw it in workplaces, where some people were noticed, promoted, and celebrated, while others worked just as hard and seemed almost invisible.

And somewhere along the way, many of us began to believe that our value depended on how well we performed.

So we tried harder.

We worked at having the right answers, being helpful, knowing our stuff, doing a good job.

We wanted people to see that we were capable, intelligent, dependable women. And there's nothing wrong with wanting to do good work.

But there's a big difference between wanting to do something well and believing you have to do it well to be worth something.

I think that's where we begin to lose our hearts.

We get so busy trying to measure up that we forget what we loved about the work in the first place.

And then there's Fred

You probably know by now that I call my fear Fred.

Fred is that worried little voice in my head who is forever trying to protect me from embarrassment, criticism, rejection, or anything else he thinks might hurt. He's been with me all my life and knows every time I felt that way in the past.

And Fred loves that old scale.

He's very good at pointing out the woman who's further ahead, the opportunity I missed, or the person who didn't respond to something I put out into the world.

"See?" he says. "Maybe you're not as good as you think you are."

Fred isn't trying to be unkind. He's learned from experience that being accepted feels safer than being rejected.

And if he can just get me to work a little harder, do a little better, and make fewer mistakes, perhaps nobody will find me wanting.

The problem is that there's no end to that game.

There's always someone doing more. Someone earning more. Someone who seems to have figured everything out.

And no matter how much you accomplish, you can always find another reason to question yourself.

Does any of this sound familiar?

What if we've been measuring the wrong thing?

This fall, I've had some wonderful conversations with women about the lives and businesses they really want to create.

These are capable, thoughtful women with ideas, experience, and so much to offer.

Yet, underneath many of our conversations, I kept hearing the same question.

Am I enough, just as I am?

I've been thinking a lot about that. And here's what I keep coming back to. I believe we were each made on purpose. Not all the same. Not with the same gifts or personalities or interests. But with our own particular way of seeing the world and something valuable to contribute.

Think about that for a moment.

You have ways of doing things that come naturally to you. You notice things other people miss. You care about certain things deeply. You have strengths that you might hardly recognize because they're such a normal part of who you are.

Those things matter. Not because they make you better than someone else.

But because they're yours.

You don't become more valuable when a client says yes. And you don't become less valuable when someone chooses somebody else.

I know that's easy to say. It's taken me years to begin living as though I believe it.

But I'm learning.

I'm learning to pay attention to who I am, rather than constantly measuring myself against what I've accomplished.

And I'm learning that embracing who I am also means being willing to stand up for that woman.

To let her have her own ideas. To trust the strengths she's been given. To give her permission to try something without needing to know how it will turn out.

To let her be herself.

Even when Fred is worried.

Maybe we could try something different this week

What would happen if, at the end of this week, instead of asking yourself how much you accomplished, you asked a different question?

How did I bring who I am into the world this week?

Maybe you listened when someone needed to be heard.

Maybe you had an idea and were brave enough to share it.

Maybe you used your ability to organize something that had been a mess. Or you learned something new because you're naturally curious.

Maybe you simply spoke up about something that mattered to you.

Those things might never show up on anybody's scorecard.

But they're evidence of something important. You're beginning to recognize and use what's already within you.

And I'd love for you to try one more thing.

Ask someone who knows you well, "What do you see in me that I might not see in myself?"

Then listen.

Don't brush it off. Don't explain it away. Don't immediately start thinking about the things you're not so good at.

Just let yourself receive it.

Perhaps it's time we stopped putting ourselves on that old scale every day.

Perhaps it's time we began appreciating the women we already are.

I think that's a pretty brave step.

Come practice taking Tiny Brave Steps with us

This is the kind of thing we explore in Creative Spaces, our Tiny Brave Steps Practice Space.

Every other Tuesday, women solopreneurs building their own businesses come together on Zoom for 90 minutes.

We talk about the things that hold us back, remember who we want to be, and give ourselves time to take a real step forward.

Not to prove we're good enough.

But to gather evidence that we're already brave enough to be who we are and offer what we want to bring to make a difference.

I'd love to have you join us. Join us in Creative Spaces