Dear Me: Affirmations for the aches

Written on April 13th, 2018


You’re enough. You’re not too much. You’re okay.

These pieces of yourself that make you cringe and retreat and regret? Own them. Stop wishing them away.

You are not damaged goods — you are a warrior. You are not weak — you are open. You are not naive — you are intentional. Own it.

You have made so many mistakes. There are so many things you would do over again if you could, so many moments you would try to seize differently, so many words you would say… so many words you would bury deep within your throat to never be spoken at all.

But you can’t do any of that. You can only travel through time in your daydreams, and that journey hasn’t been doing anything but making you resent your current reality.

You can’t know better until knowing better is useless. That’s the curse — and maybe the beauty — of it all. You are stuck in each moment just doing the best you can.

So own your best. Own yourself.

You aren’t always wrong. You aren’t always ridiculous. Stop acting like you are stupid, as if every mess you’ve created has been on purpose — because you know they haven’t been.

Show yourself the same grace you are so willing to show others.

Accept that you are who you are. You have been who you have been. And you can — and will — work every day to be able to say in the future that you are better, stronger, greater, more than you used to be… but there is nothing wrong with acknowledging where you are now.

Your optimism is not something to be ashamed of. Your sensitivity, your craving for connection, your insatiable desire to feel everything full-throttle all the time — these are not things to hang your head over.

No, they are not blemishes that make you less of anything.

They are facets that make you more human.

They are parts of you. And like anything, they are not all good — and they are not all bad. There is a time and a place. There is a balance. There is a tightrope to walk, a thin line that will always make you stumble. You will waver. You will flail. Sometimes you will topple over backwards only to land dazed on your back, sure that this is the end — but it won’t be.

You will get back up. You will wield these pieces of yourself like armor and you will hold them close to your heart and you will not judge them. You will find the good that they bring, and you will learn how to make that good more often. You will recognize the bad that they invite, and you will learn how to mitigate those dangers.

You are not stupid.

Yes, you have done stupid things. A ridiculous amount of them, actually — they keep you up at night. You replay them in every moment of downtime. You worry that they are your definition.

But they are not.

You can never deny your lapses of judgment, your moments of selfishness, your tsunami feelings that overwhelm all logic. But doing something stupid is different than being someone stupid.

No, you’re not dumb. You’re not silly. You’re not even all that irrational.

What you are is hurt. You’re scared. You’re a little bit broken, a little bit cracked — but as Rumi knew, “the wound is the place where the light enters you.”

So be thankful for that wound. Be thankful for all of the cracks in your vessel that are letting you see out of yourself and into those around you.

Own every part of yourself. Own them, and evaluate them, and adjust what needs adjustment — but don’t disavow these things that make you who you are.

And remember:

  1. You can do it alone, but you don’t have to.
  2. The terrifying thing before you is only unsurvivable until you survive it.
  3. You are a warrior.