I don’t accept my spending habits as okay. I carry shame about how I like to spend money. But the shame was never about the money. It was about the gap between who I am and who I thought I’d be by now.
“Not good enough,” is a feeling, not a fact
I caught myself mid-entry: I don’t think the things I create are good enough. That belief exposed a lie I’ve accepted as fact. The work exists. The feeling was the only thing saying it doesn’t.