I’m not worthy vs I’m not ready.

By Milana Marsenich

Recently a client told me that she was unworthy. It wasn’t specific to any event, desire, or dream. It was just a general feeling, like a blanket thrown over her, that something was wrong with her. She admitted that she had always felt this way, even as a young child.

I asked her, how can a young child be unworthy? They are barely alive. They are learning and growing, finding their way in the world.

I wish she could have seen herself through my eyes. I’d watched her courageously face a tragic and traumatic past, stand up to those in power, and raise her children with grace and dignity. I’d watched her heal her pain, so she could be a better parent, so her children could grow into thoughtful and loving adults. How could she be unworthy?

I suggested she change her language from I’m not worthy to I’m not ready. Unworthiness is just a state of not being ready, not yet having the tools or knowledge or desire.

Yet, I understood her. I, too, had felt unworthy.

Unworthiness often comes from a deep sense of shame. Shame is typically felt as “I am something wrong.” Not “I did something wrong,” but “I am something wrong.” Being “something wrong” is hard to fix.

This deep feeling of shame can stem from something as simple as spilling a glass of milk as a child and being yelled at. Or it can stem from something much bigger, like witnessing domestic violence or being abused, bullied, shamed, or neglected. It can stem from expectations that we do something for which we don’t yet have the skills.

Or maybe we did something we regret and feel too much guilt to apologize and repair the mistake. Maybe others said mean and degrading comments to us, and we picked them up and ran with them, repeating them at every perceived failure, as if they were true. As if we were unworthy of respect, dignity, understanding, and the chance to correct our mistakes.

I have always loved this poem:

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver.

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

You do not have to be good.

I felt seen, heard, and understood when I first read that line. I’d spent a lifetime apologizing and trying to prove some unreachable bar of being good enough. But that’s the thing about that unreachable bar: it’s unreachable. There is no end to the height of it.

I’m not good enough for what? To be loved? To be respected? To be treated well by others? To eat ice cream on Sunday? To rest when I’m tired? To pursue any one of my adventurous dreams? To make mistakes and learn from them?

I see this belief of “not being good enough” in others. I saw it in this woman who was my client.

She was creative, curious, compassionate, and so intrigued with the world. She walked forward with courage and love, despite her rough beginnings and the hard lot of things life had thrown at her. Through my eyes she was ok and beautiful and so authentic.

Not worthy? No. That’s just a myth we tell ourselves because somewhere along the way we got the message that we were unacceptable. We might have gotten it from someone else who felt unworthy, like passing a torch. Here, you take it for a while, I’m tired.

Was my client unworthy? Not at all. She just wasn’t ready to accept her own unique self, and that she, too, has a place in the family of things.