Not Good Enough

ShittyWomen_Not-Good-Enough

There are 1,257 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult reader approximately 4.5 minutes to read. You might be able to consider this something of a part 2 to “Unwanted” (and other lies I believe)

I have had a serious case of writers’ block for about two months now. Generally, when this happens, it’s because there is something I need to write that I’m not writing. It is called writers’ block for a reason—there is literally an obstacle, a blockage, in the outward flow of words. A few nights ago, I was confronted with my obstacle.

I do not want to write this. But I also know I will not be able to continue if I don’t. This blog feels scattered to me—I am not sorry. I am still scattered.

It’s been a while since I’ve done this, but before I begin, I want to invite you to shut up. Read. Sit with me in this. I don’t want your platitudes or condolences or comforts, no matter now well-meaning they may be. Sit with me—in silence—observe how your own soul identifies with mine—receive this. Trust that the Holy Spirit is a sufficient comforter for me—and for you.  Continue reading

“Unwanted” (and other lies I believe)

This blog will take the average adult reader approximately four minutes to read.

A friend recently pointed out to me that, in all aspects of life, I am a data collector. I know I do this consciously as part of my job—and I know I do it as a bit of a hobby. I never realized until very recently that I do it non-stop in my head in my personal life. It is an adequate way to describe how I process much of the world around me, though.

I collect data by observing behaviors (intentional and otherwise), language, and my environment—I sort it into data sets—and then I draw conclusions. I can trace this behavior back to when I was about five years old—I’m sure people that knew me as a wee tot can trace it back even farther. It is how I process information. All of life, for me, is data collection and analysis.

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I am my favorite idol.

 

There are 795 words after this. That’s under 3 minutes of reading for the average adult. 

I write a lot about failure. Specifically, I write a lot about failure as it pertains to womanhood—because, quite honestly, I perpetually feel like a failure at womaning.

It comes up often in my head and heart with the words “not good enough”. Lately, those words have been playing in my head on repeat as I repeatedly come to terms with the fact that most of my friends are married and many are having kids. I want that so badly—but I’m not good enough. That’s why I’m 30 and am seemingly unwanted on the romantic front—I’m not good enough. (I’ll write more on that later. I can feel it welling up inside me like vomit.)

In my own head, I’m not good enough for a plethora of reasons. I won’t list them out here—a lot of them can be found in past (and future) blogs. Summarized, I am a shitty woman.

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