Good Enough?

I never believed that I was good enough…

Good enough for what exactly? I don’t know. For Love? For Life? Good enough to exist?

I have never felt as though I was worthy of love. That I didn’t deserve to receive love. Relationships, friendships, family… I have never belonged to any of them.

My life has been lived in a constant state of imposter-syndrome. I don’t belong here; what am I doing here? I was raised to feel less than. I was and am less than worthy of attention or affection.

Always being compared to others. My cousins, my friends, the neighbor's kid down the street. Everyone was better than me in some way or another, and why couldn’t I just be more like them?

Or at least why couldn’t I just be normal?

The biggest complaints I would receive from, well, everyone, was that I was simply too much. Too loud, too weird, too frustrating. I had too much energy; I was too hyper, too emotional. I spent far too much time playing and talked way too much.

For my entire childhood, I had been made to believe that my very existence was too much, and I needed to not exist so much, or sometimes not at all. There were times I felt that to not exist was the only answer.