Enough is Enough, it Really is
You say I'm not enough because I don't chase a dream you have for me. I don't work a 9-5, have 2.5 kids, a little blue house with a white picket fence. Dreams are different. When I go to bed, I hope for all of our needs to be met. I don't necessarily dream of big money, adventures, or the best of things. Nothing is promised, so having our needs met daily is a BIG deal...and to some, basic life needs are a dream.
I'm not enough because I am only a homemaker; I'm not "educated" or "skilled." Or maybe I don't meet your level of motherhood because I have a career; I don't "invest" in my children. What you don't see is the grind, the dedication, all the cuddles, kisses, and hugs that go into my days. You don't see the work it takes to balance everything so I can make my home happy, safe, and full of our basic needs.
I don't have money to frivolously spend. You may not see me with brand new name brand clothing or lots of bling. You may see one barely drivable car and one reliable car. My home will not win any prizes for it's landscaping. What you will get is love, a place to sit while telling me your heartbreak, shared laughter, a ride when your car is broken down, food to fill your belly. Money will not give or get you those things.
I'm damaged. Confused. Searching myself while looking for the Creator of my being. I am just like you, except I don't hide behind the propaganda of what or who one should be. You're not a bad person because you hide. You are a scared person. Find out who you are. Own it. Tell it. You do not need to be ashamed because the measurements taken by anyone in this world are false, an assessment of who they "see" or most likely their collapsed expectations of you.
He says I am enough to save, to love, worth His time taken to create me in all my imperfections. When an artist creates a piece, much is poured into it. The work is done bit by bit, stroke by stroke, line by line. Artwork is molded, put through the fire, looked over multiple times throughout the process. Sometimes it is even painted over. Despite the process, eventually the creator sits back and deems the work good. It is proudly displayed. And maybe not everyone can interpret what they see, but it matters not. Those who see you, love you.
For all those voices who have said I am not enough, I am absolved. I have been set free from your expectations, even some of my own. I was created to be a masterpiece in the end of all the workings. My mold may change shape, but it never becomes something totally different. My colors may change, but they are only getting brighter. My lines are becoming more defined. With each stroke of life's brush, I am changing. Yet, no matter what stage of work, I am enough. I'm enough when my colors run or dull. I'm enough when I cave on the wheel of life. I'm enough when I unravel. I am liberated from anyone's expectations.
I'm not enough because I am only a homemaker; I'm not "educated" or "skilled." Or maybe I don't meet your level of motherhood because I have a career; I don't "invest" in my children. What you don't see is the grind, the dedication, all the cuddles, kisses, and hugs that go into my days. You don't see the work it takes to balance everything so I can make my home happy, safe, and full of our basic needs.
I don't have money to frivolously spend. You may not see me with brand new name brand clothing or lots of bling. You may see one barely drivable car and one reliable car. My home will not win any prizes for it's landscaping. What you will get is love, a place to sit while telling me your heartbreak, shared laughter, a ride when your car is broken down, food to fill your belly. Money will not give or get you those things.
I'm damaged. Confused. Searching myself while looking for the Creator of my being. I am just like you, except I don't hide behind the propaganda of what or who one should be. You're not a bad person because you hide. You are a scared person. Find out who you are. Own it. Tell it. You do not need to be ashamed because the measurements taken by anyone in this world are false, an assessment of who they "see" or most likely their collapsed expectations of you.
He says I am enough to save, to love, worth His time taken to create me in all my imperfections. When an artist creates a piece, much is poured into it. The work is done bit by bit, stroke by stroke, line by line. Artwork is molded, put through the fire, looked over multiple times throughout the process. Sometimes it is even painted over. Despite the process, eventually the creator sits back and deems the work good. It is proudly displayed. And maybe not everyone can interpret what they see, but it matters not. Those who see you, love you.
For all those voices who have said I am not enough, I am absolved. I have been set free from your expectations, even some of my own. I was created to be a masterpiece in the end of all the workings. My mold may change shape, but it never becomes something totally different. My colors may change, but they are only getting brighter. My lines are becoming more defined. With each stroke of life's brush, I am changing. Yet, no matter what stage of work, I am enough. I'm enough when my colors run or dull. I'm enough when I cave on the wheel of life. I'm enough when I unravel. I am liberated from anyone's expectations.
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