(Written last year on Sept. 2, 2020)

The topic of deservability has popped up in different ways in our conversations. So much so that it has caused me to pause and ponder and wonder how I got into this mindset.

I’ve talked a big talk about deservability and how much I’ve worked on it.



No, not really.

I remember the first moments deservability entered my thought space.

I was, “What? What is that?”

And the work began.

So many trials, nudging and poking, regarding the enough-ness of me. On why I mattered. On why just being born in this world makes me matter. And that since we matter by default, hence we are enough by default.

I could talk a bit talk about deservability. My deservability.

My worth. My stance in this world.

Only last year I said to my coach, I think I am beyond that now. I know I matter and I know I’m enough. I think I’m at a space now that “Yeah, I matter. Let’s make mattering matter.” And I thought about contributions I can make in the world and how I can make the world a better place since I’m done worrying about proving myself to the world.

Yeah I probably am done proving myself to the world.

I probably am done owning my shit, my skills, and my strengths.

And I probably am done with how I present myself and basking and sharing in the light of being seen.


No, not really.

I’m not done. Far far from it. And not some “it’s not the destination, but the journey” bullshit kind of not-done. I am really not done.

I am far from ready, far from ready to even see a sliver of my worth, my enough-ness.

I can fake faking it in the limelight. The moments of glory that are joyous, enriching and addicting.

But I can’t stay long enough to truly understand and internalize that I belong there and that everyone belongs there.

I don’t deserve to be there.

The topic of deservability has popped up in different ways in our conversations.

In conversations of God and spirituality. Of joy and creativity. Of career and life journeys.

Of love.

Why is it that recognizing my skills and my strengths does not equate to knowing my worth? Why is that diving into my past and finding my wounds and scars does not make me better in receiving love?

Have my fear of abandonment and habit of self-punishment led me to prefer the darkness away from the limelight as I applaud in awe as others shine more and more in their glory and renewed self belief, and I wish for myself that one day I will know how that feels?

I deserve all the bad things that happened to me. And I deserve to stay in this environment of cyclical trepidation and rebellion, forever staying in the emotion of uncertainty of myself.

Despite the progress, despite the coaching and coaxing.

Despite the big talk about deservability and how much I’ve worked on it.

I still believe…

I don’t deserve to be here.

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