The Not Good Enough Monster

Yesterday we had our check-in call for the Creative Dream Breakthrough.? We got together just to share where we’re at in our breakthrough process, explore what’s happening beneath the surface and offer each other support and encouragement.

It was going really well, then the Not Good Enough Monster showed up.

Yelling about how you have to get it right perfect, the first time every time.

That you’re never doing quite good enough.

That you’re never trying quite hard enough.

That you should have done better.? You should be doing better.

We gave him some cocoa and some toys and art supplies and reminders of how exquisitely perfect and worthy we all are, and how worthiness is something we are, not something we earn.

He calmed down.

Then last night I realised that my Not Good Enough Monster has been Quietly Out Of Control.

Quiet enough that I don’t notice that he’s there.? But silently and steadily insisting that I should be handling things better.? The problem with quiet is that it’s insidious enough that I don’t fight back.

And I started to see how much the Not Good Enough Monster has been colouring my whole life.

You see, yesterday I got angry.

The truth is, getting mad, and then honouring my anger by explaining why I was angry and asking for things to change made the situation better.

But the monster insists that I should now feel guilty about being angry, and then extra-guilty about how getting angry got me what I wanted.

I should be more evolved than that.? I should be so fucking magical that things just go my way without me ever having to engage with difficult-to-engage-with people.? I should be so wise that I can navigate through impossibly frustrating situations without getting impossibly frustrated.

I should be doing better.

While we’re at it, I should be eating healthier and walking more and have better clothes and make more money and be a better friend.

So, I am giving my Not Good Enough Monster a hug.? And putting him in the back seat.

Not Good Enough Monsters just want what’s best for us.? Underneath their words, they are sweet and lovable and deserve a cookie.

But they are not our wise and sparkling selves.? They are not our Creative Genius.

They should not be driving the bus.

 

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