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  • Dorothy Beam

I don't give myself enough...

As women, we don't give ourselves enough. Enough what? Hell, enough anything. We don't give ourselves enough credit, enough love, enough pride, enough grace, enough time, enough forgiveness, enough respect... Girl, I feel like I could go on and on, but I won't. I'll stop there. I think it's time we start looking at ourselves. It's time we need to know, hell, we need to really believe, that we are enough!

I don't know about you, but I have spent my entire life thinking of others. I am constantly thinking about my kids (did I give my daughter her snack for school, and does my son have money on his lunch account?), my husband (do I still make him happy, and does he have clean pants?), my job (did I remember to put my time on that one client, and who the hell was I supposed to call today?), and even the damn animals (do they have food, and can our new birds have babies?). You know what I'm not thinking about? ME. What do I want? What makes me happy? What do I need?

Actually, I lied. I take it back. I do think about me. Can I get any fatter? These jeans barely fit anymore. Did they shrink? God, I hope they shrank. I can't believe the I forgot to order my daughter the hoodie she wanted for school. Now she doesn't have anything to wear for spirit day. I wish I could be a better mom. Damn, I wish I could have her body, her hair, her face. I just wish I could look like her. I bet she has all the time in the world to workout, and was just born with that beauty! I should try to wake up earlier to get a workout in. What am I thinking? Of course I can't increase my prices. My photos look nothing like Rachel's. She is such a pro with babies, and I am never going to be as amazing as she is. Want me to keep going? No. I get it. It's sounds familiar right. Where's the positive? It's not there.

Ladies, we are enough. I have to stop and remind myself of that. I am worth taking time out of my day to write, or read, or binge watch Shameless. I am loved. My kids love me just as I am. They don't care if the clothes are in a basket unfolded. They just want me to sit and play a game of Uno with them. I am wanted. My husband doesn't care that my pants are a little tighter. Honestly, he is just waiting for the chance to grab my ass anyways. I am smart. My bosses are ok if something falls through the cracks sometimes because I have a lot on my plate. I have a lot because I am damn good at what I do.

I am enough. I deserve great things. I should allow myself to have them. I don't have to compare myself to the friend who looks like she should be on a magazine cover, or to the stay-at-home mom whose home is always spotless. No, I don't have to tear myself down because I feel like shit today. I don't have to let what others think affect me, or how I feel, and neither do you. You are enough. Not perfect. No. No one is perfect. But give yourself credit for what you do, forgive yourself for the things you can't, and love yourself for who you are because damn it, YOU ARE ENOUGH.

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