Last week I got asked the same question twice. Yes, bloody twice:
What's your biggest fear?
My answer was immediate. Not being loved. By my kids, by my partner, my family and by my friends.
It was an easy answer because for most of my life I carried the story that I'm not ready. I'm too frightened. I'm not smart enough. I can't do it. I'm not worthy. I lack confidence. I'm doing it wrong. I'm bad.
I'm sure most of us have heard or felt this at some point and know that voice. The words themselves might differ, but the feeling underneath is the same. Some call it "I'm not good enough." Others, "I'm not lovable as I am," or "I'm not worthy." The language changes but the wound doesn't.
We try to override it with willpower. We promise ourselves that we will push through, or tell ourselves today will be different. But that childhood belief is older and stronger than any strategy we have used to outrun it, and when it matters most, it will pull the handbrake.
So how do we change this story and this language? It begins when we slow down and turn towards the part of us that still feels not good enough, and we stop treating it like the enemy.
Most of this is formed early in life. We arrive in the world completely dependent on the people around us, our parents and other family members. If the care we get is inconsistent, distant, volatile, or simply lacking presence, children rarely conclude that their parents are limited. They conclude that something about them is the problem.
As a five-year-old, if Mum or Dad shouts at you or hits you, you don't stop loving them. You stop loving a part of yourself.
That's where my fear comes from. Not being loved isn't really about my kids or my partner. It's about a little boy who decided long ago that love had to be earned and had the potential to be lost.
What is actually real is that the voice of unworthiness was never mine. It was a conclusion I made to survive.
And the sooner I realized that, the sooner I could stop living by it.
If this is something that resonates with you, try this:
- When the voice shows up, notice it and name it: "There it is."
- Ask yourself: Whose voice is this really? How old was I when I first heard it?
- Then speak to that part of you the way you'd speak to your own kid if they said it about themselves. With patience.
Start there and let me know how it goes. And as always, write this shit down. Then share it with a friend.