“May I tell you something that may be tough to hear?” I ask Derry (not their real name). Now a successful entrepreneur, Derry lived the #vanlife decades before that was cool, dedicated many years to working with Indigenous children, and has more amazing and hilarious stories than your local library has books.

You might expect Derry to be the epitome of resilience.

And yet.

Derry looks at me doubtfully. “If you must,” they say somewhat resentfully. Which I know, in Derry-speak, means “Yes.”

“Derry: You. Are. Enough.”

Derry looks at me disbelievingly. And then the waterworks start.

“It’s a good thing we’re meeting over video, where I can be home,” Derry says a few minutes later. “I wouldn’t want my team walking in on me like this.”

“I’m glad you feel able to be this vulnerable with me,” I say. “Not long ago, you had yourself so rigidly controlled you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to feel these emotions, let alone let yourself cry.”

“I would’ve just hung up,” Derry says with a half-laugh, half-sob. “In fact, I did just that a time or two.”

“You did, and I suspected what was going on.”

“Yet you never judged me for it.”

“I knew it wasn’t about me. You are a forthright person. If you had been angry with me, you would have stayed on those calls and let me know how you felt.”

“That I would have done,” Derry agrees. “I still don’t believe what you said is true. That I’m enough.”

“That’s okay. I have plenty of certainty in my statement for both of us.”

“Well, good for you.”

From here, our conversation moves on to other things. As we wrap up, Derry says softly, “Okay, I believe what you said? That I’m enough? Just a teensy tiny little bit.”

As far back as I can remember, I have had a deep and abiding knowledge of my innate self-worth. Also, an equally deep and abiding belief that I am worthless.

So, I have some idea of what’s going on for Derry.

Reclaiming my self-worth has involved a lot of introspection, reflection, and work with therapists. It is a journey I will likely never complete. Even so, it is ever more full of love and grace. While “Who am I to do that?” and “I’m not worth that kind of success|quality of friend|amount of calm” and similar questions still stop me cold some days, I thaw out faster now. These questions no longer define me.

Maybe you can relate.

Anytime you feel even the tiniest bit worthless, I am here to tell you, categorically, without knowing anything about what’s going on for you, that You. Are. Also. Enough. This is not my opinion. It is and always will be fact. Truth. Absolute. Whatever your situation or feelings.

Don’t quite believe that? That’s okay. I have plenty of certainty for the both of us.