19 Jul I am Enough from Reese Leyva
When I was in my very early twenties, I wrote this little snippet in my journal about my enoughness:
You told me once I’m ugly, that no one could ever love me. In fact, you told me many, many times. You also told me I was never good enough. Over and over with your words and your actions, not good enough. Never enough. Never good enough. They echo in my head, not just your voice but your actions echoing over and over on the History Channel reruns in my mind.
It’s like dropping a coin into a deep, dark well. There’s an emptiness, but you know something is there, just past the emptiness, just past the darkness. And you wait and you wait for the coin to make a splash, to hit the ground, but it never does, or, rather, you never hear it. But you wait because you know it’s there.
It just has to be there, the splash, the end of it all. I’m still waiting for the end of you, your echo in my head. And maybe I just never heard the splash because all I hear is the waiting, the silence, the emptiness inside of me begging you to tell me that I’m enough.
Ten years later, I finally formulated a response:
I stopped waiting. I stood by the well for so long, staring into the darkness, that I let the damp, thick blackness cover me and all my light.
I waited for so long that the weather parched my skin, dulled my eyes, cracked my lips, taught my hands to forget to work, and stripped the voice of my soul completely from my body.
I loved you so much, I waited a lifetime. I loved you so much, my tears grew cherry blossom trees around me. I loved you so much I sacrificed myself to this well, bidding myself be fertilizer for the trees and the grass and the flowers discovering life around me.
This was my truth until I realized I’d sacrificed myself not for you, but for me. I believed you. I believed you and this was the destiny I proudly accepted.
Then one day, the scent of the flowers around me awoke my subtle senses. The tree’s shade played light on me so drops of sunlight could dance. Critters of the earth tickled my fingers and toes, telling me I was yet alive and look at all I’d created by just being me. Trees. Flowers. Grass. A forest. A home for other lovely, divine beings. And they were telling me that it was time for me to live, too.
And so I grew thankful. I felt blessed by the trees that drew life from my tears, the sun that shone to bring blood to my face, the flowers whose scent would tempt me back to life. All I’d done, without you, came to me and strengthened my spirit, reminded me that this is my life.
No more waiting. No need for words or apologies or forgiveness.
I have always been utterly enough.
About Reese Leyva
Reese Leyva grew from a felon to a finance professional to a successful entrepreneur, speaker, trainer and dancer by listening to and following her inner light. Now she spends time writing, sharing her passions with the world, and mentoring others to let their own light shine. More information about Reese, her Shine Your Light Speaking Circles, and her 1-Day Shine Intensives can be found at www.ReeseLeyva.com
Featured photo courtesy of Francine Alex.