Enough Already


That’s the age I’ll be in a couple of hours.

39 is old enough to be enough, isn’t it?


I never feel like I am enough. I never feel like I’ve done enough, done enough right.

The outline of my life is told in tragedies and failures, deaths and losses, regrets and crises. When I tell my story, I’m reluctant to share the accomplishments. I can’t even list them in this post.

Somehow, somewhere, I learned not to deserve happiness. I learned to expect sadness and disappointment. I learned to equate humility with shame.

I learned that if I did something well, if I felt good about it, then somebody else would feel badly about themselves in comparison. So I learned not to be too smart, too opinionated, too pretty, too visible. Too alive.

I also learned, that as bad as things may be, as hard as they might get, life is always worse for somebody else, so I have no right to seek comfort. I have no right to ask for help.

These are the things I promised to write about when I said this blog would be about the “lies I tell myself”.

On better days, when I’m busy, when I’m around people, when I’m working, when I’m contributing, I feel like I’m more than enough. I feel on. I feel like I’m making a positive difference in the world. Life has meaning.

But I’m so alone so much of the time, and I have very few of those better days.

This last year, I helped with a project that could really improve things in my community, but it was controversial, and I took a lot of heat. I shut down this blog–a little light in my world, a little place to feel creative, a little corner of the internet to try to connect with people, to try to understand my life and be understood–but I shut it down out of fear.

Fear of opening myself to abuse.

It was bad enough when I was only afraid of what friends and family and potential employers would think.

Now, there are complete strangers out there who hate me, who have shouted in my face, who have called me terrible names–more hurtful even than middle school–and have accused me of the most bizarre things (like wearing a blonde disguise at a public event that I didn’t attend). Conspiracy theorists and news reporters know my name and I haven’t wanted them to invade my private iSland.

So I shut myself off from the one thing that was helping me through this year of transition, this year of isolation, this year of redefinition: this blog.

But 39 should be old enough to stop being afraid.

39 should be old enough to feel like I’m enough.

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Part of the solution since 1973.

13 thoughts on “Enough Already

  1. You’re absolutely right that you and 39 are enough. Make a promise to yourself that you won’t be asking the same question at 49. Life’s too short to weigh yourself down with inadequacy.

  2. I, for one, am really glad you are writing again. I missed you when you were away from the blog, and I know how helpful it can be to inhabit this little bit of space. Happy birthday!

    1. And one more thing – I think it is brave and bold to not only write your blog, but post it on FB too. I haven’t merged those worlds yet and am nervous to. You are inspiring me to maybe push the envelope of my own fear in this way.

      1. Well, I very deliberately limited this one to the Life of Kylie FB page, where I’m assuming only people who REALLY care are reading (rather than my personal FB page with its hundreds of “friends” on it!!). I love your blog and think you should open it to whomever you feel comfortable with, no more, no less!

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