“You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.”
Maya Angelou
Why does it take so long for us to learn this? Maybe that is not the right question. When do when we learn that we are not enough? As a teacher in Brooklyn, New York, many years ago, one of my students was a beautiful little girl named Pam (not her real name). She was a fragile eight-year-old little girl. She had learning difficulties which weighed heavily on her spirit and heart. Her mother struggled to help her daughter. She tried her best.
Although I was a certified special education teacher, my teacher preparation courses did not prepare me for Pam. Soon after meeting Pam, I realized she came to school every day with dirty clothes. And, because her clothes were dirty, she often had a very strong unpleasant body order. Pam had very little friends. My heart ached for her. I worked with the school’s clinical staff to come up with a plan that would help Pam without adding to her feelings of isolation. Pam’s mother was on board with our plan.
Pam and I would spend every morning together in the girl’s bathroom. Together we would brush our teeth and brush our hair. She changed into clothes the school kept for emergency situations. We chatted about the night before and discussed good hygiene habits she might be able to accomplish at home. I made sure we had plenty of time to laugh together. I loved to see her laugh. Her face lit up when she laughed. I looked forward to our time together each morning. I hated when I was absent. I knew she would be disappointed.
Then one day the team noticed that Pam’s hair on either side of her face was very thin. We discovered she was pulling out her hair. Of course, we were very concerned. We loved her. Was this a sign of anxiety? What could be the root of her anxiety? After a period of observation, we discovered, Pam was trying to look like me!
I wore my hair in one of the fashionable styles of the day. My hair cut was considered a flat top. My hair was cut close on the sides but high on top. As I sit here retelling this story, tears well up in my eyes. This beautiful little girl wanted to look like anyone but herself. When did Pam learn that she was not enough?
How many of us, like Pam, want to be someone else? When did it begin with you? When will it end with you? Whisper to that little girl inside, “You are enough,” ss many times as you must until you believe it deep in your heart. You may have to scream it behind closed doors. You may need to say it between tears. It’s going to take grit. It’s going to take time. I know. I am still on that journey at 59. I want you to promise me something. As you move closer to knowing just how amazing and wonderful you are, share your story with a SisterFriend. Tell her how you did it. Who knows? You may encounter her in the little girl’s room!
Your SisterFriend,
Belinda