More Than Enough: Claiming Space for Who You Are (No Matter What They Say)

by Elaine Welteroth

We don’t prioritize our time with ourselves. We rarely set aside moments to be still, to access our center. And the bottom line is, when we don’t focus on our inner light, it dims.

A person whose soul has awakened to this fact is so abundantly aware that every interaction, situation, even blade of grass reveals something worth knowing. And in that knowing, the truth is that nothing bad can ever happen to you. We can see it and process it as bad. Or we can see it and process it as something happening for us, not to us.

“First. Only. Different.” Being an “FOD” in your field comes with a unique responsibility and a powerful opportunity: to rewrite rules, to redefine norms, to represent for the communities that haven’t had a seat at the table before. But what good is a trailblazer who isn’t willing to leave signposts along the way that make it a little less confusing, less lonely, less disorienting for the next woman or person of color to follow?

When you exist in spaces that weren’t built for you, remember sometimes that just being you is the revolution.

As you continue crafting the life you want, I hope you are reminded that it is the very things you underestimate about yourself that will help you create your own

magic.

regardless of what drama actually went down in that hospital room that day, what I’ve known for sure every day since is the profound impact of a mother’s love. And for as long as I can remember, it has always been there to remind me that I was born enough.

HEN A GIRL IS born, a universe of possibilities is born within her. When a little Black girl is born, she is born with the promise of a better future; her life represents new hope for breaking generational chains—of systemic oppression, of discrimination, of abuse—that have plagued our lineage.

corner of the house to light up fake cigarettes that we rolled with construction paper

We could smoke if we wanted to—we were rounding out our first decade on Earth with our shit all kinds of together.

Looking back, I can see how all those early impulses to strive for perfection—from my photo albums to the backyard business—were, at least in part, a reaction to the things I could not control in my world. Like my dad’s drinking. That early inclination to overcompensate, to distract from my family’s shortcomings, drove me to overachieve at anything I took on because, the way I saw it, I couldn’t control my dad’s behavior but at least I could control my own.

Over time I’ve learned to accept and even appreciate this part of my story. What I discovered is that my dad is beautifully flawed just like the rest of us, and his struggles played an important role in making me who I am. And I’ve learned to love who I am. Even if certain parts were forged by fire. Sometimes the things that hurt the most propel you the farthest.

F YOU EVER WONDER how a teenage girl feels about herself, where she is in life, who she’s trying to be, just look at what is going on with her hair. Especially if she has curly hair.

“For so much of our lives we are told what beauty is, what it looks like, who possesses it, who doesn’t. . . . And the ones pushed to the margins are rarely given the pen to write ourselves and our own definitions in.”

when fear is familiar it keeps you holding on—and its grip works both ways.

To be mixed race in America is to exist in a constant state of in-between. You have access to two worlds and are expected to be fluent in both, yet you never belong fully to either one.

It’s a trippy thing to be lured into a false sense of inclusion only to have it violently snatched back. But that kind of shock can really happen only once.

the betrayal of a moment like that cannot ever be fully undone—because it transcended just our friendship and prepared me for a world that would inevitably see and respond to my race in similarly unpredictable ways.

Part of getting comfortable with the discomfort of being the only brown body in White spaces is

readying yourself for the next time a racist slur or an ignorant question might fly in ...

You can never be stuck in a world you never belonged to. — N

When your dreams are bigger than the places you find yourself in, sometimes you need to seek out your own reminders that there is more. And there is always more waiting for you on the other side of fear.

“There is a divine order, a divine flow to our lives. We don’t need to have all the answers. But our job is to keep on dreaming and trusting enough to put one foot in front of the other.”

The world doesn’t prepare girls—especially little brown girls—to see the bigness of their dreams. It doesn’t train us to embrace the expansiveness of our own possibilities.

“When women affirm women, it unlocks our power. It gives us permission to shine brighter.”

being an adult doesn’t always mean you have to do it all alone.

I realized that if we aren’t vigilant, we can move through our entire lives feeling smaller than we actually are—by playing it safe, by unconsciously giving away our power, by dimming our radiance, by not recognizing there is always so much more waiting for us on the other side of fear.

“Falling down is inevitable. It’s the getting back up that’s on you.”

What I know now is that when we derive our worth from the relationships in our lives—the intimate ones, the social circles we belong to, the companies we work for—we give away our power and become dependent upon external validation. When that is taken away, our sense of value, and identity, goes with it.

no matter how much you try to blend in, your race walks into every room before you do.

In an era that applauds even the most superficial embrace of diversity, equating tokenism with progress, I was determined to use the opportunity I was given to make a difference by bringing more of my authentic self to the role. I’d had enough of feeling intimidated by self-important airs, sterile environments, and some of the stiff personalities in the industry.

“Sometimes just being yourself is the radical act. When you occupy space in systems that weren’t built for you, your authenticity is your activism.

In order to change the stories, you must change the storytellers. — A

S A CULTURE, WE love a celebration. We love a first. We hold them high. We all marvel at headlines and highlight reels. But we rarely discuss the marks and scars and bruises that come with breaking through glass ceilings.

Rarely do we talk openly about the tumult of the come up, the underside of a dream realized—rarely do we share that even good things can sometimes play out in complicated, painful, and confusing ways. We feel pressure to post about the joy and the gratitude and the triumph of the biggest moments in our lives—promotions, graduations, engagements, marriages, even childbirth—like it’s all supposed to make us feel up, up, up. And we’re supposed to keep quiet about the things that don’t feel so good inside. But things aren’t always as they appear. And even your biggest promotions can come along with some of your most bewildering blows.

even inside an industry where more women are at the helm than most, I was being encouraged to do the opposite, by another woman. I couldn’t help but point out the hypocrisy:

Women are taught to work hard and to play by the rules. We are taught to never overstep, to stay in our lane, to keep our head down, to go with the flow, to never be too loud or disagreeable. Not to be bossy. Not to be pushy. We are not encouraged to know our worth, let alone to demand it. We are not given the tools to fight for ourselves or taught to challenge authority. Instead, we are taught—in subtle and overt ways—to give up our power, to take what we can get, and to be grateful. Whatever it is, whatever it takes, you just do it. And you do it well. With a smile. Whether it feels good or not. Women aren’t taught to get comfortable with making people uncomfortable.

When you are invested in building something you believe in, and you know there is no safety net if you fail, it is all too easy to lose perspective. It is by no means a bad thing to be ambitious, but I needed to develop healthier habits in order to be truly successful.

On the other side of fear is freedom—but you have to be willing to look it in the face.

Thank you for making me into the woman I was meant to be.