In the early hours of the morning, as the sun made her first appearance of the day, Lady Uppity began to sense the not-good-enough fear’s presence. Her stomach was in knots; tears wanted to make an appearance.
She did what she often did: Lady Uppity stood before the mirror of worthiness and asked the same questions:
Mirror, mirror on the wall, am I acceptable? Am I loved?
The mirror usually replied with the same answer: “Yes, my dear. You are acceptable. You are loved. You are enough.”
However, for some unknown reason, on this particular morning, the mirror replied quite differently.
“What? This question again? Why are you still asking? How many times must I tell you—you are acceptable, you are loved, you are enough? Honestly, my dear, aren’t you listening? You ask every day, and every day I do my best to reassure you. And I don’t lie.”
Lady Uppity stared at her reflection.
The mirror wasn’t finished.
“Maybe you should ask yourself if you are even willing to stop making yourself earn your own acceptance. What is holding you back?”
Lady Uppity was taken aback. The idea that she was making herself earn her worthiness had simply never occurred to her.
So she turned to her journal and promptly wrote:
What am I afraid of?
Then she paused, placed the pen down, closed her eyes, and took three long, deep breaths.
Returning to her journal, pen in hand, she quickly jotted down the words:
Rejection.
Disappointing others.
Making mistakes.
And then the tears came.
Lady Uppity placed a hand over her heart.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered.
She wasn’t apologizing for the mistakes she’d made or the times she hadn’t lived up to someone’s expectations.
She was apologizing to herself.
For all the years she had demanded proof before offering herself acceptance. For every mistake she’d hauled out as evidence against herself. For every time she’d worried about being rejected by someone else while quietly, routinely rejecting herself.
It was a moment rather like Dorothy discovering she had possessed the power to go home all along.
Lady Uppity picked up her pen and wrote:
Am I willing to stop making myself earn my own acceptance?
And with that, she roared with laughter.
Good grief.
She had created her very own internal Department of Worthiness.
It was quite an operation.
There were applications to complete and references to provide. There were annual performance reviews, surprise evaluations, and an entire Division of Past Mistakes whose sole responsibility appeared to be locating unfortunate incidents from 1973 and entering them into evidence.
The Department maintained impossibly high standards, which were subject to change without notice.
Had Lady Uppity been kind enough?
Productive enough?
Patient enough?
Spiritual enough?
Had she made the right decision?
Had everyone approved?
Had she done her absolute best?
And even when she managed to satisfy one requirement, another form promptly appeared.
APPLICATION FOR CONTINUED WORTHINESS — ADDITIONAL DOCUMENTATION REQUIRED.
No wonder her mirror had finally pushed back.
Then she remembered a passage from a book she loved:
“And what would you do,” the Master said unto the multitude, “if God spoke directly to your face and said, ‘I COMMAND THAT YOU BE HAPPY IN THE WORLD, AS LONG AS YOU LIVE.’ what would you do then?”
—Richard Bach, Illusions
Lady Uppity imagined herself standing before God as she considered that question.
“Certainly, God. Just as soon as the Department approves my application.”
And then, as if someone had switched on a light, she saw it.
I’m doing the best I can.
There it was.
Another damn performance review.
Because now she had to prove that she was, indeed, doing her best.
Prove to whom?
Lady Uppity had no idea.
Perhaps there was an Assistant Deputy Commissioner of Doing Your Best tucked away somewhere in the Department of Worthiness, waiting to stamp her application.
INSUFFICIENT EVIDENCE. PLEASE TRY HARDER.
She laughed again.
Then Lady Uppity returned to her trusted mirror.
This time, she didn’t ask a question.
She made a declaration.
I no longer require a verdict of good enough.
I don’t have to prove that yesterday’s Lady Uppity was good enough.
I don’t even have to prove that today’s Lady U is doing her absolute best.
I simply refuse to reject her.
And something inside her became very quiet.
Happiness no longer had to be the prize she received after finally doing all the right things and becoming good enough.
Acceptance wasn’t something waiting for her at the end of a long bureaucratic process.
There was no final examination.
No approval committee.
No certificate of worthiness.
Lady Uppity had spent years trying to earn a certificate that had never existed.
She looked into the mirror once more.
And perhaps for the first time, she wasn’t waiting for it to tell her who she was.
The Department of Worthiness was officially closed.
Lady Uppity was going home.
💗🌹💗
Thank you, love you.