“You aren’t Asian enough.” My college friend said this matter-of-factly, as if there was a quantifiable ethnic quota that I had missed.
“You got fat,” said a relative, upon my return home from freshman year of college.
“You look so serious. Smile more!” encouraged a friend of my parents. It was early morning on a Sunday, giving me no particular reason to be cheery.
And the list of “shoulds” and “not enoughs” goes on and on. Who is thin enough, pretty enough, smart enough, capable enough? Is it any wonder that one would struggle to feel adequate and accepted just as they are? I’m trying to listen to a new voice. This new voice says, “You’re completely and totally enough.” It’s the only voice that actually matters. That voice and those words begin as a whisper. But maybe someday it will be the only voice that can be heard.
“You got fat,” said a relative, upon my return home from freshman year of college.
“You look so serious. Smile more!” encouraged a friend of my parents. It was early morning on a Sunday, giving me no particular reason to be cheery.
And the list of “shoulds” and “not enoughs” goes on and on. Who is thin enough, pretty enough, smart enough, capable enough? Is it any wonder that one would struggle to feel adequate and accepted just as they are? I’m trying to listen to a new voice. This new voice says, “You’re completely and totally enough.” It’s the only voice that actually matters. That voice and those words begin as a whisper. But maybe someday it will be the only voice that can be heard.