Oh Lord, I am not worthy

Mountain Love

Somehow, I presumed the sending off of my memoirs would flush me of some of those pesky habits I carried from the convent so long ago. But it hasn’t. My sense of unworthiness prevails.

Not feeling okay.

Or good enough.

Like a sudden gathering of clouds, a darkening overshadows me when I least expect it.

I blame the convent, where I developed the habit of gazing inward each day, and examined my sinful self for every possible imperfection. It wasn’t enough to skim through the Ten Commandments in search of sins—impure thoughts or feelings of jealousy. I was also taught to look for slight infraction against the rules. Talking too much, running in the hallway, and gawking around during prayer were inadmissible faults, and needed to be publicly admitted on a daily basis. Like a monkey, diligently hunting for and picking at its body for fleas, I daily searched for—found—and developed a long list of—my daily failings. Had I not discovered at least a few faults, I would have been guilty of the more serious sin of pride.

Years later, my spirit has learned to expand and soften, but I still I work at accepting my imperfect and fault-ridden self.

It had not come easy. . .

this letting go,

this allowing.

Even today, I hesitate at being proud of,

or thinking myself good enough.

It has taken a lifetime.


  1. I think we all have some feelings of unworthiness. I often feel I am not quite good enough in different areas of my being. It is not easy to be totally accepting of ourselves. We need to learn to accept ourselves, flaws and all, and work to being happy.
    You are a good person to others so now be good to yourself.

  2. I agree with what Rose said. It is that we all feel not worthy at times. I feel it is human nature to think that. I was always taught,( and it does not mean it is right), that only God is perfect in every way. So, do not be so hard on your self. You are loved by many.

  3. I always thought I had decent self esteem, despite years of “humility” being drilled into me by the nuns who educated me, and an incredibly abusive father who reminded me every day of my life that I would never measure up in his eyes, or anyone else’s. This year, at the age of 63, I realized that all my life, I kept most people at arms length because I truly believed that my being in this world didn’t really matter to many people. So, why bother trying to get close to them and nurture those relationships?

    Letting go of those limiting beliefs is a process – one paralyzing limiting belief at a time. Healing and opening one’s heart to other people is scary. Believing in ones self, despite what you have been taught, can be a daily struggle. I work at it every single day and try to give myself compassion and consideration.

    Just know that you are not alone in this journey.

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