Enough

It never feels enough. It never feels good enough. I never feel good enough. Just do your best, he is forever saying. You did your best, that is all you can do. It reassures for a while. I like to hear him say it, for I cannot do so for myself. I just don’t feel it, I never have. I don’t feel I was ever good enough as a daughter, a mother, a sister or a friend. Funnily enough, I do feel good enough as a wife, well, his wife. He shows me that. I sink in the evenings. I am tired and when I look back over the day I cannot see that it has been good enough. The work done, the writing or the drawing is never enough. The problem is mine. A hand-me-down sort of non-esteeming. I know this. I will try to circumvent it. I will. I promise.