Hi Reader,

It's Sharon from Sharon E. Hines, back with a new edition of the Simple Things Digest.

One thing I find myself saying a lot as it applies to clutter is if we don't do the inner work, the cozy, peaceful home and life we crave won't happen.

So today, I'm taking you inside the pages of my journal and into the recesses of my heart to show you how I do the inner work.

Am I worthy?

I woke up this morning (actually, it was the afternoon because I got up twice in the night and finally fell asleep when I went back to bed at 7:30 a.m.) feeling sad, like I wanted to cry.

As watched birds flit about the trees outside my bedroom window, it occurred to me the sadness stemmed from recent struggles with low self-worth brought on my needing to buy a new car.

I intuitively prescribed myself a trip to the pool where I could be near water and journal in the warmth of the sun.

After picking up orders from Target and H.E.B. (a Texas grocery store), and unloading the groceries at home, I made my way to a local pool.

I took a dip in the water, then sat down in a lounge chair, pen in hand, writing down moments from my childhood I knew affected my self-esteem.

The standout moments were:

Growing up in a neighborhood on the wrong side of the gully. Friends weren't allowed in my neighborhood because it was perceived as dangerous. (It wasn't.) The people who lived in my neighborhood were considered poor and even trashy.
Being presumed Mexican and treated accordingly, which in the part of Houston I lived in was with disdain and prejudice, to put it mildly.
Getting kicked at by a boy in middle school whose locker was above mine. I was in his way. He was better than me and his dad made more money than my dad because his dad was a dentist, he said as he kicked me. (Ironically, my dad built a thriving A/C business and more than likely made more than the dentist.)

I read through each one, paying attention to how it felt and where it showed up in my body. I placed my hand on those places, closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, sometimes making a motor boat sound with my mouth as I exhaled.

Once the intensity of the emotions subsided, an image of seven-year-old me standing in the driveway of my childhood home appeared.

"Worth doesn't come from houses and neighborhoods or people and prejudices...it comes from within."

I bent down to her and assured her that worth doesn't come from houses and neighborhoods or people and prejudices. I told her worth comes from within, that she was born precious.

Little Sharon suddenly went from unsure to lifted above me, arms thrown back, chest out, almost as if she were flying. Her eyes twinkled, her smile big.

She was owning her worth.

While she was flying high, so to speak, I encouraged her to give the hurt back to the people who caused it. I explained it came from a brokenness that wasn't her responsibility.

I watched her countenance grow stronger, more assured as she gave back what she was never meant to carry. Her strength was contagious.

Up until then, the occasional struggles with self-worth have shown up as:

guilt over having a nice home in a nice neighborhood
more guilt over driving a nice car
imposter syndrome as a writer, a mother, an organizer, a teacher, a middle class lady in an affluent area...
difficulty receiving help, gifts, compliments, love...
people pleasing at my expense

and the list could go on.

By the time I left the pool, I walked away knowing:

every luxury I've ever experienced was meant to be, especially considering the way the events have unfolded
as tempting as it is, I'm not called to contract or shrink away out of fear of what others may think
I'm being taught how to hold space for good and big things
I am worthy

I drove home with a quote in mind that I came across years ago. I don't remember who said it, but it was something along the lines of not lowering your standards/dimming your light/dulling your shine to make others comfortable.

"Never dull your shine to make someone else comfortable."

Shrinking in order to make others feel comfortable around me is something I've done for as long as I can remember, and lately, I've been confronted with it.

Neither that behavior nor the beliefs behind it are serving me.

Today I let it go.