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I want to feel seen, and then to be cherished. I want a thousand people to tell me I am wonderful, so maybe I believe just one of them. I want constant love and acceptance from others to drown out the shame, doubt and fears I have about myself. I want to never be without intimate contact, so as to never have to feel alone.

And then, there is some small, brave part of me that wants to buckle down and do the work, so I can someday hold myself as enough most of the time.

The work is hard. It is happening now in small increments. It is a constant push and pull. It is me expanding and then contracting, over and over again. It is hard, and it is slow, but it is happening. The truth is, I am coming to know myself differently. I am able to hold more pieces of myself as worthy, even the ones I most often hate. I am able to see something of value even there. I am able to be uncomfortable and okay. My ability to tolerate the gray has increased. I am integrating more and more. I am even less convinced now that there is, or ever was, anything wrong with me.

None of that stops me from wanting someone else to come along and make all the work unnecessary.