I’m Not Good Enough
“I’m not good enough.”
These words run through my brain daily,
“I’m not good enough.”
Every morning as I look in the mirror,
“I’m not good enough.”
When I see the scars on my body,
“I’m not good enough.”
The moment I walk into school,
“I’m not good enough.”
It’s constant.
“I’m not good enough.”
I’m far from perfect,
But I can’t be that bad…
Can I?
I don’t know who I am,
Or who I’m going to be.
So I go back to the phrase,
“I’m not good enough”
To mask the fear of the past, present, and future.
Who I was wasn’t pretty.
I was selfish,
I was mean,
I was ignorant,
I was indecisive,
I was arrogant,
I was ugly,
I was cruel,
I was nothing,
I wasn’t good enough.
Who I am now is better.
I am more selfless,
I am more kind,
I am more wise,
I am more proactive,
I am more humble,
I am more beautiful,
I am more compassionate,
I am something,
But I’m still not good enough.
Who I’m becoming is greater.
I will be more brave,
I will be more loyal,
I will be more intelligent,
I will be more ambitious,
I will be more determined,
I will be more confident,
I will be more amazing,
I will be more than I am now,
But I still won’t be good enough.
The words that started so long ago still run through my mind,
“I’m not good enough.”
Those words haunt me,
Like the ghost of a lost loved one,
Like the last words you heard from the one you used to love.
I don’t remember when the words started,
I don’t know when the voices in my head turned evil,
I don’t know why they started in the first place.
Maybe it’s because I was never taught to love myself,
Maybe it’s because of the bullies.
The bullies that called me names,
They said I was fat,
They said I was ugly,
They said I was stupid,
They said I was retarded,
They said I didn’t belong there,
They said I was nothing,
They said I wasn’t good enough.
Maybe it’s because of them.
Or maybe it’s because of my father,
The father who never spent time with me,
The father who called me names,
Called me a brat,
Called me ugly,
Called me manipulative,
Called me crazy,
The father who ignored my cries for love,
The father who treated me like I was horrible,
Like I was stupid,
Like I was worthless,
Like I was nothing,
Like I wasn’t good enough.
Maybe it’s because of him.
Or maybe it’s because of society.
A society that says only a minority of women are beautiful,
A society that sets high standards for its girls,
A society that expects me to be a model,
A society that wants me to be something I’m not,
Something I will never be.
It wants me to be 5’ 10,
It wants me to be 115 pounds,
It wants me to be flawless,
It wants me to wear makeup,
It wants me to be something impossible.
With these expectations come insecurities,
Insecurities that may never go away,
Insecurities that I can’t fix.
My stomach is not flat,
My hair is not blonde,
My eyes are not bright blue,
My body is not perfect,
I’m not good enough.
Not good enough to be a model,
Not good enough to be beautiful,
Not good enough to be something of value.
So maybe it’s because of society.
Or maybe it’s because of my family,
A family that ignores me,
A family that expects everything of me,
A family that wants me to be amazingly stunning.
They baffle me with their looks of judgement,
With their material values.
I’m not normal in their eyes,
I’m not beautiful,
I’m not smart,
I’m not confident,
I’m not good enough.
So maybe it’s because of my family.
Or maybe it’s because of my mother,
The mother that used to be loving,
Used to care,
Used to help me,
Used to tell me I was good enough.
But my mother isn’t there anymore,
I don’t know where my mother went.
For four years she’s been somewhere else,
Her mind is not her own,
Her actions are not the same,
She is different.
She yells at me almost daily,
Becoming upset over nothing,
Telling me my brother is better than me,
Saying that I’m stupid,
That my grades are unacceptable,
That my behaviour is rebellious,
That I’m the most disrespectful girl in existence.
She mocks my interest in the military,
Yet tells me it’s where I should be.
She says that I am horrible to her,
Yet tells her friends that she would never trade me for another teenage girl.
It’s so confusing,
I don’t understand.
I don’t understand the way my mother acts,
I don’t understand her love,
I don’t understand how she could possibly care,
But I know that she really does.
My thoughts about my mother are so conflicted,
Because she makes me feel important,
Makes me feel like I’m something,
But then she knocks all of those compliments down,
Down with negative comments,
With shots at who I am.
Even though she says she loves me,
She makes it seem like I’m nothing,
Like I’m not good enough.
Maybe it’s because of my mother.
All of these voices in my head,
Telling me those awful words,
“I’m not good enough.”
I know I’m better than this,
I know I’m something,
I know that I am good enough.
It’s such a pointless argument,
Yet it rages on inside me everyday,
“I’m not good enough”,
“Yes you are,”
“Prove it then.”
I try so hard to be good enough for people,
For the bullies,
For my father,
For society,
For my family,
For my mother,
For myself.
I know that I really am good enough,
I know I’m not worthless,
I know that people love me,
I know that the real problem lies within something else,
Within myself.
I’m good enough for everyone but myself,
I am my own worst enemy,
And I don’t know how to fight myself,
I don’t know how to do this.
How does one fight fire with fire?
How is that even possible?
It isn’t.
I have to accept myself for who I am,
Accept that I am not perfect,
Accept that I never will be.
Even though I’m not perfect,
I am kind,
I am smart,
I am important,
I am beautiful,
I am independent,
I am loyal,
I am amazing,
I am determined,
I am understanding,
I am compassionate,
I am empathetic,
I am brave,
I am strong,
I am something,
I am good enough.
Though it will take a very long time,
I know that I can learn to love myself,
I know I can do it.
It won’t be easy,
But it’s achievable,
It’s possible.
All I have to do is say,
“I am good enough.”