OMG I Forgot to Double-space

It’s over. That’s it. I’m done. After all the hype and encouragement clichés: “if you never try you never know”. I blew it. Over a month of planning and deliberating. Spending countless hours convincing myself that I had it in me, that I could possibly do this. Pushing myself daily to become open and vulnerable and to stand in the cross fires of opinion and rejection armed only with the confidence to bleed. Yes! After all of this, I forgot to fucking double-space.

How could this happen? Before this post is posted it will be read a hundred times by yours truly and rewritten probably three hundred. How could I overlook such a simple requirement? Me, the queen of editing and re-editing until every line is perfect. Me, the epitome of constant caution in language, in action, in verse. Me, who has a permanent delay mode when it comes to sharing ones feelings or aspirations. Me, who feels like they could die from being exposed too early. I did it. I hit “send” before it should have been sent!

And now it’s over. My chance wiped away by a formatting error. My dream crushed by a careless oversight. It doesn’t make sense? Was I too afraid to put myself out there? Did My subconscious sabotage my own chances? Like the quick left hand of a right-handed magician, was the failure to double-space a distraction? Was I the right-handed magician? Knowing that I would be so appalled at the idea of a minor mistake keeping me out of the running, was I subconsciously able to mask my true fear? Was I able to make the reason about something else other than me and avoid the truth all together? That I am not, and never will be, good enough.

A friend of mine once told me that everyone is deserving of love. But I find that hard to believe. In my opinion everyone is deserving of tolerance not love. Love is earned. Even babies have to earn their mother’s love. Being cooped up in her vessel for almost a year does not automatically throw them in the unconditionally loved group. The constant growing and changing of the mother's very being during this time is traumatic. And even once the little grub is out, the demanding of everything else after she’s already given everything she could, can, quite frankly, go either way. She could love or she could resent. The choice isn’t automatic. Neither is being good enough.

Just because you tried doesn’t mean you deserve it. Or just because you gave it your all doesn’t mean that people should take notice. According to the Merriam Webster online dictionary, the full definition of the word enough is:

“occurring in such quantity, quality, or scope as to fully meet demands, needs, or expectations”

Or as the simple definition states:

“equal to what is needed”

Equal to what is needed. That’s it. So why then throw the word “good” in the mix and completely rearrange its potency? Why hand it over to other people to be the sole judge of its efficiency? Why make ourselves so scared of the “good” that we never even shoot for the “enough”.

I went out on a limb. Well done. I challenged myself to follow my passion. Thumbs up. I searched out every wound that I had and reopened them again and again by choice to feel and learn and write all about it. High five!And then when I was done and went through the motions and filled every requirement to try and become a part of an institution and program that could help me grow into my passion, I forgot a formatting technique. I forgot to double-space my letter. And for now, that will just have to be enough.