This letter is for the boy in me who wanted to be good enough.
I hear you.
I see you.
I still carry you with me.
This is what I’ve learned.

There are moments I’m not proud of: I snap at my daughters for being children. I miss what my wife is really saying, my ego fogging the air between us. I listen to students’ heartfelt confessions and find myself without a way to respond.

Often in the aftermath of these moments, I tell myself, “You should be more. You should be better. You are not enough.”

While I believe these, the great irony is–I continue to convince myself the opposite is true also.

That I am too much.

When I pour my heart out on the page. When I sing at the top of my lungs. When I perform poetry in place of giving a standard order professional presentation.

In preparing to write this letter, I realized that I can’t write to a past version of myself, for these voices still linger; they are present and prevalent still.

And you know what else I realized?

Both of these feelings are two sides of the same counterfeit coin that I keep trying to spend.

I catch myself, too often, trying to deposit these lies into the accounts of my self-worth. I still invest in these illusions. But I’m working to close out that account. To live in the security of truth, not the debt of self-doubt.

It doesn’t come free of charge, to stop paying interest on shame. It takes courage to step away from these stories I’ve both bought and sold–to say: “No more.”

It’s a constant practice—refreshing, reminding, and reimagining—just to put my money where my mouth is, if even for a fleeting moment. Resilience is not found in having it all together. It lives in returning, again and again, to the truth that held you, even when you lost sight of it.

What follows is my reminder: love is the only transaction that transforms us.

I write these lines below for me and everybody else out there consumed by self-sabotage. A bank statement for when we buy into the false narrative of our own definitions.

No more fake news.

Only good news.

So, here’s my memo of our up to date and true credit score:

The screen displays a well-worn message:
Insufficient funds.

And no matter how hard you try,
So long as you keep coming back to this ATM,
You will always get the same message.

If you measure yourself against your potential,
You will focus on your shadow,
Which does nothing but grow as you gaze upon it.
When you allow others to measure your worth,
The numbers won’t add up.
You are not made to fit someone’s bottom line.

Rather,
It’s time to find a new credit union.
No more dealings with shadow bankers of no faith.

Choose the bank that encourages you to
Embrace the brilliant sunshine within.

You are cosmic wonder.
You are the only you in this endless vast universe.
You are loved—
Just as you are.

You can stop the endless spending.
Withdraw from the questions rapid firing through your mind.
Invest in this sacred place
This garden of tranquility
This calm
This balm
This knowledge of your beauty and worth.

You are a human being.
And this means you are meant to dance
Between brilliance and buffoonery.
A mix of
Majesty and mess,
Embodiment and ethereality,
Beauty and blemish,
Bounty and bankruptcy.

Temptation will ask you to label these contradictions as a diminishment of divinity,
As if you have the power to distort something so pure.

It is only in thinking we have this power that we overdraft our account.

It is in taking our own delusional definitions to mean more
Than the breath we share
The dignity which breathes in all
The divine spark that flickers amidst and even despite our forgetfulness.

For after all,
Have you heard of the bank account that cannot be depleted?
Whose currency carries worth through every contradiction?
What collateral secures the sanctity of your soul?

It’s what you were minted for.

It’s the only wealth that cannot be counterfeited.

It’s meant to be received without limit,
and spent without fear.

It’s love.

So, the next time voices—whether within or without—
Try to preach a Gospel of shortcomings,
Do not bow.
Do not bargain.

Let go of that counterfeit coin which never bought you peace anyway.

Letting go in this way is not weakness.
It is the fiercest kind of faith:
Believing you are already worthy
Without proof,
Without profit,
Without performance.

Take this to spend freely instead:
The truth of who you are,
Stamped with love,
Made in the image of enough—
Just as you are.