From whence does this feeling of not being enough come? On whose wings does it ride?
They never intended to communicate that I wasn't good enough.
But it was there embedded in the hell, fire, and brimstone flannel-graph stories. I wasn't good enough for God. The Divine was sending me to the Lakes O'Fire upon my death, unless somehow, I got the prayer right and Jesus hopped into my evil heart. I don't remember how many times I heard this message before the age of five.
They never intended to communicate that I wasn't good enough.
I suspect the brainwashing had already begun long before I could say any words. They were proud that before the ripe old age of two, I could recite my first Bible verse from memory. There was a camp and a canoe on a lake in the Midwest where you could go if you recited the whole book of ABC verses. "A" for "All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned each and everyone our own way."
But, they never intended to communicate that I wasn't good enough.
And then there was a sport that caught my heart at the ripe old age of 12--only one of the most difficult of sports. Far too late a start to get to the upper echelons. So I took it up. In spite of my athleticism and decent level of talent I quickly determined that I was not Olympic bound, in spite of this being some sort of instigating factor to drive me into the sport. All the same, my secret hopes and dreams they paraded before the house guests as entertainment, "She wants to go to the Olympics," they'd chuckle whilst compelling me to round off back handspring in the yard. My words of pleading to not divulge my secret dreams could never quite reach them. "We're so proud of you," they'd argue. And so began the schooling in how my "no" wasn't good enough to stop adults in all their infinite parenting wisdom if the purpose of boundary obliteration could be somehow construed as "well meaning."
But, they never intended to communicate that I wasn't good enough.
And then the day came when I thought I might find some sort of community amongst spiritual people in a church, of sorts. Knowing my recovery from fundee world, I chose a place that I didn't find too Jesus-ee. I may have even mentioned to them that I was stepping toward the Divine again, finding a connection to a church. But of course, the place chosen wasn't exactly the right sort of good enough for them. It wasn't Jesus-ee enough for their narrow fundamentalist world view. Something was wrong with the doctrine--too much ritual--too dead as they judged it--too much deviation from the horrific, flannel-graph stories that deadened my soul. And so when they'd visit, they decided that they couldn't contaminate themselves with attendance to my sort of Spiritual Gathering. My father would instead comb google, looking for multiple services at varying locations to try, rather than accompany his less-than-daughter to her spiritual community which clearly wasn't enough to feed his giant soul.
But, they never intended to communicate that I wasn't good enough.
And then there was a day when divorcing a narcissist stepped onto my to-do list. My ex was fucking one of his 21-year-old college students. And so my father in all his wisdom decided to try to "fix matters" by getting on a plane to counsel and advise about matters of the heart--matters of my heart. My ex had the gall to introduce the oh-so-fuckable-red-lipsticked-well-oiled-foreign student to my father. My opinion of the appropriateness of the situation, of my dad coming to advise about my relationship, and my insight into what was falling down around me didn't matter. I was after all female and emotional and not logical in my arguments defending my position as to why I should divorce. All the same, I sat my dad down independently, tried my best to explained as rationally as I could what was happening, and why I thought it wise to get out--how it was abusive and confusing and taking its toll on me. But my own words weren't rational, or logical enough for my own decision, in my own relationship, "to justify" leaving a cheating, emotionally abusing spouse. I was sinning--divorcing--clearly not trying hard enough.
And so while they never intended to communicate that I wasn't good enough, the message somehow came through brilliantly clear. Now I struggle to walk the line between connection to them, while working to delete this brainwashing from my head. I have the gall to wonder why when I finally meet the guy that I'd like to get to know--why I somehow feel not good enough.
