On not being enough | willowbl00

The world has been offering ample opportunities to test my newfound comfort with being uncertain about if I’m “enough,” if I’m “adding value,” etc.

There’s this thing my favorite old therapist introduced me to, of “unanswerable questions.” It’s like.. no matter how much data you get about people loving you, you’re still like “guess we’ll never know if I’m lovable or not.” Mine has long been about if I’m bringing value or not, which has put me at risk of abusive relationships as I’m easy to tear down in that way. But I’ve been working hard on therapy and on self-love, and I think I’ve come a pretty long way on this front in recent years.

My first glimpse at doing better at this was getting feedback while at Apple that I was successfully selecting which things to half-ass and which things to full-ass. After all, we can’t get all the things done all the time, and some things only need some of our attention. Sometimes, our full attention can actually be detrimental to a project, and can inhibit others’ ability to grow.

But on Sunday February 15th, I had two things happen, either of which might have previously completely destroyed me, and now I’m just kind of fine with both having happened on the same day.

The first is that a friend (not even a dear friend!) is Going Through It, and we had an intervention to try to get them into inpatient care. We didn’t make it. They’re currently arriving back at their desolate, isolated home that’s under 2ft of snow rather than stick around for therapy and sorting out their mailbox etc. I gave what I could of myself (three weeks of contributing to intensive logistics, socializing, and gentle pushing towards better choices), and it’s probably not enough. Because I value their autonomy more than their being alive, I might lose this friend, because I didn’t have more to give. I chose protecting my home life and my ability to perform at a new job over my friend’s life.

The second thing that weekend is that my dopplebanger had died in December, and we had the memorial service the same day as the intervention. I got up to tell a story after the kids had left about how they were sleeping with so many people that I suggested they make a spreadsheet to track everyone’s likes and dislikes, to which they responded that not every problem can be solved with a spreadsheet, to which I assented, but also pointed out that this particular problem was particularly solvable with a spreadsheet. I also brought up that we had talked several times about whether or not we should deepen our relationship, to give more to each other. I was never able to give more than I was already giving. They died (not intentionally) in self-imposed isolation based on shame and feeling like they could never get enough.

But as a friend who stood up after me pointed out, how much we all gave wasn’t about not being enough. The fact that we were all able to give so much for so long is what kept them alive for as long as they were alive. So he saw it more as a victory than as a loss.

So this is new to me, having clear boundaries on what I will and won’t give. I give a lot. I believe firmly in the “when you have more than enough, you build a bigger table.” But I am also, finally, learning to put my own mask on first, and I am learning to be comfortable with the consequences of doing so.

I also looked dapper AF while doing all this. Because these were Occasions, and this is one way I demonstrate respect.