YOU are ENOUGH.
When I was a little girl, a pretty, blonde neighbor who I wanted desperately to be friends with, shouted this at me:
“SHE’S JUST A PIECE OF CHINESE FOOD.”
I remember sobbing to my mom about this.. I remember every other time I got called a name.
I remember the shame I felt - I remember being rude as fuck to my Chinese nannies.
I remember wanting to change my Chinese last name and hurting my dad’s feelings by asking him that.
I remember refusing to go to Chinese school to learn my father’s own language.
And I was just a little girl, how could I have known how beautiful being different was? Just a half Chinese, half White girl, growing up in an all white neighborhood in American suburbia.
And I think for most children who are bullied.. things go one of two ways.
Either you shrink into a tiny ball and conform..
Or a chip gets securely lodged in your shoulder.
I took the latter option.
And for as long as I can remember…
I’ve bucked the system.
Refused to play “friends” with popular people who I knew I could have fit in with.. if I’d wanted to.
Refused to follow other people’s rules.
Refused to follow society’s rules about what kind of life I should have.
I decided I’d be the very fucking best at whatever I chose to do.
And I am.
If I latch onto something, and decide it’s mine - it’s game over.
It’s literally what I do and who I am - I don’t know how to do anything different. I don’t know how to survive without success. Without constantly being better than I was the day before.
And that chip on my shoulder?
It fueled me.
For the longest time.
Until it didn’t.
Until I realized that no matter how much I posted on it about social media, that little girl who had called me a piece of Chinese food.. was not going to know or care.
And if she did think what I’ve been able to accomplish was impressive, well - I realized - then I wouldn’t care. Lol.
Because it was never about her. Or any person who mistreated me.
It was what those words did to the heart of that little girl I once was. That I still am, deep inside.
Those words that made her believe that she was quite simply - NOT. ENOUGH.
And so ensued an entire life of trying to prove that I was enough.
AND THE KICKER…
That this entire time - that feeling of enough, was already available.
Waiting for me to claim.
Waiting for me to wake up and see.
That there is nothing to prove.
It’s just me, getting better at being me, a little more, each and every day. Because it’s the only way I know how to live, and the only thing I need to survive.
You can still be driven as fuck.
You can still be successful as fuck.
And not need to prove anyone wrong.
It’s pretty freaking freeing.
Not to mention, it makes EARNING MONEY IN YOUR BIZ, so much easier.. once you decide you're just doing it for shits and giggles cause you can, rather than hitting a specific number for the asinine idea that your old bullies will give a damn.
Try it sometime.