Handling feelings that you will never be good enough.

One of the things that comes up repeatedly in my work with highly sensitive creatives is a pervasive sense of not being good enough.

This tormenting feeling rises up every time we come close to expressing our true stories and our real voice in the world.

It’s that thing that stops us from even trying. Who am I to write this? Who am I to do this? Who am I to want this? Sometimes, this masquerades as a numbing voice in our head that feigns indifference. Oh, who cares? What’s the point? It doesn’t really matter anyway.

Whatever the words might be, there’s a nagging sense that who we are and what we have to offer is not enough. We are not worthy. We don’t have what it takes.

The roots of this self-destructive belief often go way back. Some of us have had physical abuse or some other significant trauma that affected us as little children. Some of us have had other experiences such as being picked at and bullied because we were “weird,” or “different,” or loners who were easy targets.

And somewhere in the depth of these experiences, the little one inside us decided that all this was happening to us because we deserved it. If we could just be good enough, we would be loved. If we could just be good enough, we would be listened to.

If we could just be good enough, we would be valued.

As sensitive adults with creative wounds, when we start making our journey back to our artistic selves, it is this original wound that comes up. It’s this tangle of low self-belief and unfulfilled needs that we have to wrestle with.

One of the questions that I often get asked by my clients is how they can become so confident that they won’t get intimidated by writing. These are people who love and idealize writers, and they ardently wish they could be like them one day.

Hidden inside this question is the assumption that IF ONLY they were confident enough, they could then write and be the artistic person they know deep down they are.

But this is a highly problematic assumption.

First of all, there is no magic cure-all for low self-esteem. There are no easy answers. Of course, there are many self-help books that talk about different ways to love ourselves, become more confident, and accept our “perfectly imperfect” selves. But while some of them do have really helpful things to say, there’s no getting away from the fact that the road back to ourselves is a long, bumpy one.

Progress is made in inches, and growth often looks like two steps forward and then one step back.

As someone who has struggled for many long years with gaining self-belief, I know that it’s a process. It’s a journey. It’s not something you do once and then forget about. This is a poem called Living and Existing that I wrote a decade back when I was just starting my journey back to my creative self:

You are not okay
Never were, never will be
There’s something wrong with you
Always was, always will be

How do I silence these voices
And just see myself?
Untouched, Unlooked at,
The me there was
When I didn’t know who the other was.

How do I fly?
When my wings are clipped?

I know that not believing in yourself can feel AGONIZING. It can feel as if the tormentor is locked inside your own mind. It can feel as if something destructive has taken hold of you and now is draining you of your very life.

I know it’s HARD. And so, I understand and empathize with the wish that all these sensitive, creative souls who speak to me have.

But I also know that waiting to begin until you become so secure that it doesn’t hurt is a mirage.

All the writers I know write not because they feel supremely self-confident and worthy, but in spite of those critical voices. Over the years, they have neutralized some of that sting, some of that whiplash by taking action on their own behalf. I know that I wouldn’t have started on my creative path if I hadn’t decided to begin before I was ready.

This doesn’t mean that you should power through unhealed trauma.

If you have a deep emotional wound, you deserve to get all the love and support you need to heal it, whether it’s through therapy or some other healing modality.

But it does mean that you have to give up that magical wish your inner child is holding onto that one day, miraculously, you will be transformed into someone bold and fearless.

Courage, as they say, is taking action in spite of fear.

THAT’S real bravery. That’s accepting the cards you have been dealt and playing your hand.

You are brave for getting into the game.

So, if you are a creatively wounded writer who aches to write, LONGS to write but feels they can only start once they are confident, I urge you to start today. You don’t need confidence to write. You don’t need high self-esteem.

You just need your own true story. You just need the words that come naturally.

You just need your own permission.

I hope you give it to yourself and begin the journey that is only yours to take.

With love and hugs, Ritu.

Ritu Kaushal is the author of the memoir The Empath’s Journey. Set during the first few years after she emigrated from India to the United States, it connects personal stories with practical tools to help highly sensitive people channel their gifts.

Ritu is the recipient of the Silver Medal at the prestigious Rex Awards, presented by the International Confederation of NGOs in partnership with the United Nations in India and given to people creating social impact through their work.