August 8, 2015

Dear Sister, you are More than Worthy.

watercolor woman

For many of us, there has been a man who didn’t find us worth the fight.

And after him, we stopped wanting to fight for us too.

Let me begin with this, sisters: the sun does not shine out of men. No matter how much it feels like it does.

This is something we think we know until we realize, suddenly, that we somehow forgot it again. And it will take some time to remember the truth in that statement, even if you think you know it already. Do you?

We have seen decades, eras, of women tied to men. To the lives of men. To the dreams of men. With no voice of their own. So, maybe you do know that truth in words, but do you know it strongly enough in your spirit that it runs through your veins?

You must train yourself to know it in every cell of your body until there is no turning back. Until you are certain, you can never forget it again. And then, you will forget again—but there will be just enough memory of it left in your fingers or the strands of your hair to take you back home to yourself again.

When that man left—the one who didn’t think I was worth fighting for—I couldn’t remember what made me worthy.

I had a job (teaching yoga) but I could not pay my rent. I had skills, but my life force was scattered and unharnessed. All I had, really, was a heart, which was only strong on Tuesdays (when I asked it real nicely).

So, what do I do? How do I remember I don’t have to earn the crown that sits on my head?

I went on an adventure. This time, quite rare for me, the adventure took place in the same town, in the same cardamom scented apartment from which the villain of self-doubt arose.

The adventure took place inside of me.

I went in search of my worth. Where did it originate? Where was its source?

My research led me to a mantra, which I spoke to myself one morning as I woke up with that all too familiar spoon-carved hole in my stomach, and I continued to speak every morning after, until…I didn’t need to anymore.

My mantra went like this:

“Ebyan, beauty, you are sacred. You were born sacred and you will die sacred. There is nothing you have to do to earn your sacredness.”


I fought for my worth. Every second of every day. Especially from myself, I fought for it. Any inner gremlin, any outer human, who diminished me and made me feel less than, with their eyes or with their words, was met with the ferocity of the thousand lions that live in my blood. “Don’t you even try,” I told them.

I held my spine tall when I felt like crumbling. I plugged the leaking pipes feeding those invested in my smallness.

I looked He-Who-Would-Condescendingly-Speak-To-Me-Out-Of-His-Own-Need-To-Feel-Important in the eye and spoke, with a rooted gentility that I am not in need of anyone’s approval.

I’m in a battle—the most important of my life. The first time I have stood up for me. For my right to hold value. A value that can never be taken away. A value that is, in fact, my birthright.

This is the revolution I have been waiting for. A campaign I can get behind.

This world does not make it easy to remember we are sacred. We spend most of our time bulldozing over each other—spiritually, energetically, even physically. How is anyone supposed to remember they are of worth here? Amongst people who yell at you for putting typos in a company e-blast or boyfriends who tell you you’re not enough for them? Or gurus and priests who silently preach that you can only find God through them? How is anyone supposed to find their worth in that mess?

I started to listen. To learn myself. To learn the things that made my heart sing, the colors, the foods, the people who helped me remember my true self. And the ones who thrived from my own demise—I learned them too, so I would remember the scent of their kind later on.

I understood the importance of choosing where you direct your life force. Will it be towards those here to be a mirror of the ways you reject yourself? Or will you direct your atoms towards those who inspire you? Thoughts included.

This is important. You must protect yourself. I do not care what they tell you, the love and lighters.

If you believe yourself of any worth, you will protect yourself from those who wish harm done upon you (including yourself). Often these beings do not come with fangs or signs tattooed on their forehead that they are still working through their own magnificent work of art we call a life and do not have the space yet to fully hold you. No no, they can often hide behind positive catchphrases and an extensive spiritual resume.

Protect yourself. Protect your magic. You are worthy of thatBy doing so you are speaking a spell into existence. A spell that says, “Dearest darling Soul of a Self, you matter enough for me to make people uncomfortable, to say things that are not always pleasant or people-pleasing in my efforts to protect you; You matter to me enough to keep your spirit safe.”

Now, learning yourself. This will take time. What ways does your body move when no one is looking? When even you forget to look at the grace in your step? What songs want to be sung from your mouth or your fingertips? What makes you come alive? Most important, what are you shadows? How have they danced to the forefront of your life and what light do they shine on your healing? Where do you need to humble yourself? And with what flavor? Spicy hot or sweet vanilla?

Instead of I am not enough, we should be saying, I am so much, where shall I start?

Where did this voice of not-enoughness come from?

Ask yourself.

When it’s quiet and the crickets are chirping out your window.


You will see.

It is not yours. It was given to you.

By people mistaken.

Lost in their own ways.

When you are ready, you can take that chain off.

No one else can do it for you.

It is a choice that you must make.

Everyday, from now, until eternity.

I am enough. I am enough. I am enough.

Roar, sisters. Roar loud and Roar true. Roar kind. Roar fierce. Roar quiet when the moment asks for such things. In whatever language, roar.

The universe is crying out. A love song. A symphony of longing from the heart of humanity to yours. Enough. Enough of the trying too hard. Enough with the hiding. Enough with the doubt of your immeasurable magnificence. Enough. We need you. All of you. Every piece. The world depends on your journey back and forward and upside down to who you truly are. To what you knew about yourself when you first dropped from the jewel of your Mother. Before you traded in your glistening fur for false skins.

You are cherished. You are loved. You are worthy. You are necessary. You are infinite.

I know. Do you?


Relephant Read:

Read this When You Don’t Feel Good Enough.


Author: Ebyan Zanini

Editor: Emily Bartran

Photo: Flickr

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