You Do Enough, You Have Enough, You Are Enough

6th grade started out rough, ya’ll. I thought Hannah was going to crack under all of the pressure. Riding the bus, lockers, bells, navigating 8 different classes and the volume of projects we she had to complete was unlike any we had ever seen.

Auditions for the fall musical were posted immediately. Luckily, Hannah had the maturity and insight to know that she could not handle that huge undertaking at that time. “I think I need to focus on making this transition without having to take on something so big,” my 12-going-on-30 daughter informed me. I agreed.

She has dealt with feelings on competitiveness in the past with a classmate, Sonya*, who had a part in the musical. So I thought she might regret opting out once the time came for the performance and she wasn’t a part of it. I waited for the “Everyone thinks she’s soooooo great!” insecurity to begin.

The night of the musical, Hannah gracefully complimented the performers and seemed unfazed by Sonya’s achievements. I flashed back on a talk I had with her quite awhile ago about how some people think because someone else’s star is shining, it means their own star’s light will be dimmed. I wondered if she remembered it.

“Hey remember when we talked about what Brené says about scarcity? How people think if one person is successful/pretty/smart, that means there’s no room for them to be successful/pretty/smart? I think you’ve really taken that and applied it to Sonya,” I told her.

“Yeah. Just because she’s a good performer doesn’t mean I’m not,” she said. And then, “I’m a little better than her actually.” I laughed. Glad she finally believes it.

*not her real name

Only Terrorists Wear Jeggings

“How is the job search going?”

VennDigram

That’s how it’s going.

And apparently it’s going that way for everyone else, too. Every job seeker I know is approximately one ignored resume away from deciding they’ve failed at life and should just go join the circus. (I hope the circus isn’t offended that they are a struggling career’s last resort.)

When you’re frustrated on the reg by a fruitless job search, tiny frustrations can morph into a gigantic I-want-to-run-over-someone-with-the-car frustrations. Like there being no un-spicy sushi in the grocery store case. Or the last 15 minutes of The Good Wife being cut off on my DVR. Or the discontinuation of my favorite jeans.

Me to retail clerk: Are you guys getting any more of the boot cut jeans?
Retail clerk: Ummmm probably not. We have mostly been selling the skinny jeans and the jeggings.
Me in my mind: What the hell is a jegging.
Me in real life: Oh.
Me in my mind: (throw my hands in the air, sigh loudly and cry “OH WHAT’S THE USE!” while collapsing onto the sales room floor)
Me in real life: (exit without refolding the tower of tshirts I had knocked over)

I pause to text my sister about how my boot cut mom jeans were extinct and everyone wears jeggings now. “Only terrorists wear jeggings,” she texted back. I laughed to myself. I enjoyed our shared rejection of jeggings. Then I logged onto ebay and found a pair of boot cut.

One thing that’s great about constant rejection is that you relish the small victories.