Enough is Enough
Enough with the constant striving, enough with the comparisons, enough with the impossible goals. Because enough actually is enough.
The other day I was at the library trying to check out my books through the automated machine and I realized I forgot my PIN. So I brought my pile to the front desk.
“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been here,” I said apologetically, “I’ve forgotten my PIN.”
As I walked out the front door and down the steps, I realized what I had just done: I had apologized to the librarian for not going there as often as I “should.” This constant, nagging feeling of not doing enough has even extended to my book-borrowing habits — even now, in the midst of writing about this very thing. This has to stop.
How much of my life have I spent running around trying to do everything and feeling like I’m just not measuring up — because I obviously can’t do everything ? It’s a losing game, no matter how hard I try. It finally hit me: This is impossible.
I’m never going to be able to do everything. I’m one person with a finite amount of reserves. I have finite energy, finite capacity to focus, finite time, finite creative energy, finite motivation — finite everything. When I found myself wondering why it took me so long to see this, I realized this belief that we should strive to “do it all” and “have it all” is pervasive, and too many of us are buying into it. It’s certainly not making me happy. Who decided I have to do everything and be everything to everyone all the time? I don’t remember making that conscious decision, and yet I seem to have found myself in that trap.
I can trace this habit back to when my children were younger. I used to enjoy being on Facebook and sharing pictures of my kids. It wasn’t something that filled my cup, but now and then I would post and comment to keep up with childhood friends. Soon after my divorce, though, things started to change. I felt bad about myself every time I went on it. Other people had their children in all the right activities, they made beautiful, homecooked meals, their children compliantly sous-chefing at their sides. They went on exotic vacations to sunny destinations, spending quality family time – even their pets looked obedient and well-groomed. I started to notice all the places I was falling short: Our family vacations looked more modest, my house was a mess, and my kids wanted nothing to do with cooking. My dog wasn’t obedient. Even my sock drawer was non-compliant. And being a Montessori teacher, I knew all the right things to do, which made it worse. I figured I needed to try harder. If only I were more organized, more disciplined, more efficient. I always felt like I was fiercely trying to catch up, like the slow kid trailing behind at the 500-meter dash. And I was running in a race I didn’t even want to participate in. I couldn’t remember signing up for this.
I’ve never felt like my life was easy — I certainly haven’t been handed anything on a silver spoon, and I’ve never balked at hard work. But things got even harder after my divorce. I thought, I can do this. I can do it all. I can be a mom (a good one), have a career (where I’m respected), have a relationship (a healthy one), stay in shape, be healthy, maintain friendships, be a good daughter, sister, friend, lover, employee, neighbour, citizen, etc., etc., etc. I’m exhausted just writing it all down. And for reasons unknown to me, I even thought I shouldn’t make mistakes — certainly not the same ones twice. Ironically, as a teacher, I have always encouraged mistake-making with my young students. I have a phrase, “That’s what erasers are for,” and then I go into a tirade about how everyone makes mistakes and that’s okay, it’s how we learn. In fact, “It’s good to make mistakes,” I say.
So why haven’t I taken my own advice? It comes down to the need to please and belong, which has been ingrained in me for so long.
If I stay on this treadmill, I’ll never arrive at a place where I’m satisfied that I’m good enough. If I focused more on my career, my family life would suffer. If I spent more time with my friends and family, my house would be a disaster. If I focused on my health, if I exercised enough, took all my supplements, planned my meals, and meal-prepped on the weekends, I wouldn’t have enough time to write, leading to creative stifling, which would lead to depression which would lead to low motivation, which would lead to lapsing in my exercise routine, which would lead to withdrawing from my social life, which would lead to me feeling guilty. Once I realized I’m not a machine and that I can’t do it all, I started to see that this whole “doing it all” premise is a fallacy. Even if it were possible, which it’s not, why would I want to run myself ragged? I’ve already had cancer twice so I’d better not push my luck.
After this somewhat delayed realization, I finally understood the popular maxim, “You are enough.” I hadn’t come around to it until recently. I thought the intentions were good, but it fell short of being inspirational. Who wants to be just “enough”? As an adjective, it’s not inspiring. The other problem with this phrase, in my mind, was the implication that you don’t need to work at improving anything about yourself, as if you’re “good enough just the way you are,” which is frankly an insult to anyone who knows they haven’t reached their full potential. It seemed to be advocating for complacency and mediocrity. Nothing in that motto said to me, “You are unique,” so I secretly shunned it.
But I realized there’s a difference between the enoughness of who you are as a person, and the enoughness of the things you can do in your life, the things you have yet to do — when the time is right, and the circumstances allow it and you’ve filled your reserves enough to forge ahead. I would never be “enough” if I let myself be defined by other people’s values. This was an unsustainable and unattainable goal. And what’s worse, my own sense of self-worth has been tied to supposed “successes” and “failures.” I was internalizing these undefined metrics, inflicting pain on myself with a life sentence of constant suffering. I can simultaneously be enough while also moving towards what I could be. I can both be enough while striving to do more on my own terms, while giving myself grace for knowing my limitations. Because no matter what I do, there will always be more of something, just out of reach, and I will have to make peace with that. There comes a time when enough has to be enough.
So yeah, that’s dog hair in the corner of my living room. Yes, those are spots on my bathroom mirror. There are items in the fridge with questionable expiry dates. My driveway isn’t clear of snow all the way to the pavement, but it’s clear enough to drive out. That’s just how it is. My children and dog have enough love and food, and sometimes they have to feed themselves, but they’re all old enough to manage that (except maybe my dog, but he’ll try). I don’t talk to my friends every day, but they know I love them and I send them random messages when I’m thinking of them and arrange to visit when we can both make the time. And that’s how life goes.
If I were to ask myself if I’m making the best choices I can make at this particular time — the answer would be a definitive yes. There will always be more that can be done, but I’m doing the best I can do with what I’ve got. My value as a human being? That is not up for debate. I am enough. And so are you.
Thank you so much for reading! If you liked what you read, please click the like button, share this post, or leave a comment below. As always, I appreciate you being here.
Brilliant articulation of something that so many of us struggle with or have struggled with. I remember when I had the epiphany that my to-do list would always have things on it and that was the nature of life: there were always going to be things I “got” to do. That helped stop me from feeling like I was lacking in someway because I wasn’t completing it. And that helped me see more conditioning in basing enoughness in accomplishment! That was a great discernment you spoke to too: the difference between the enoughness of our personhood vs the enoughness of what we can accomplish in our lifetime. Anyway, I’ve written a whole novel here! Thank you for this rich post!
Love this and your words resonated deeply. I found myself nodding along with each line (and sometimes more like punching the air - yes, exactly! :D). Thanks for sharing. You ARE enough and I am glad you exist.