If you’re dying to know when you’ll finally be worthy…

When, when will I finally be worthy?

That awful corset of a question. It steals my breath, squashes my organs, and dries up my ink.

When will I at last allow myself to be here without explaining why I deserve it,

why my voice has value,

why I warrant your respect, your ear, your investment of time or attention or resources,

why I matter?

I am weary of the wicked sticky web of I’m Not Like Them. I’ll Never Be that Cool, that Skilled, that Smart, that Savvy or Sexy or Successful.

And I finally know that I’m weary of it, not because I need to stop believing it, but because it’s all true.

I will never be like them. I won’t be that cool or skilled or smart or savvy.

And here’s what revs my ticker: the idea of seeing the difference between me and whoever else and saying, with an expansive relief, thank goddess. And Hell YES. And following it up with a firm and frilly

It’s good to be me. It’s great to be me. It’s a gift to be me! A crescendo of celebratory me-ness, so I can get. on. with. my. own. damn. work. So I can

share my profoundly silly words with the world,

trust my love for the pure and profane,

flirt with confidence in my own sexy swagger,

wear my heart on my sleeve, my soul on my collar, my lust on my skirt, my hope on the turquoise bra strap I just can’t keep covered up,

eat all the garlic and kiss all the people without hesitation or shame because this tastes like me, this tastes like me, this tastes like me, and I am delicious.

When will I finally be worthy? When will you?

When we say it’s so.

When we say it’s so.

I

say

it’s

so.

You?

Thank you so much for reading. You might notice that I don’t have a space for comments, but I’m certainly open to conversation about what’s written here. If you’re so inspired, feel free to start a conversation with me via the contact form on the homepage of this site.