What would worth do? It would stop making the prerequisite worth!
A worthiness wound doesn't always announce itself. It's subtle.
It looks like beating yourself up for a mistake you made three years ago while dismissing the fifty things you did well today. It sounds like that voice in your head—the one that's always looking for how you might be doing things wrong.
It feels like constantly moving the finish line. You achieve something significant, and instead of celebrating, you immediately ask, 'What's next?' You can't slow down. Rest feels like laziness or boredom. Success feels like a trap of a temporary high; you know you can't sustain it.
It shows up in your relationships, too—who you choose and attract. The way you tolerate disrespect and lukewarm connections. The way you apologize for or avoid taking up space. You might think you don't have a choice, but what's more true is that some part of you believes this is what you deserve.
I lived the first 37 years of my life with no idea that my lack of worthiness was creating my life. That my unworthiness was the undercurrent of all my choices, emotions, and reactions. I believed worth was something you waited to feel, rather than something you chose to embody. Because of that, it always felt like I was in a state of anxious waiting or compulsive doing.
If this is your normal, it's easy to believe this is just how it is. I'm here to tell you it doesn't have to be.
The shift came when I asked myself: What would I do if I already believed I was worthy? That question changed everything. I'd start setting boundaries with work. I'd start creating Instagram reels. I'd say yes to co-creating a podcast. I'd say yes to dinner—meaning I'd say yes to taking the risk of letting someone in again. So I started doing those things—not because I felt worthy, but because doing them created worthiness.
That reframe moved worth from something I chased to something I practiced. And practice, not perfection, is what builds the foundation.
So I'll ask you: What would you do if you already believed you were worthy? Don't wait for the feeling. Start with the action. Worth isn't something you find—it's something you build, one choice at a time.
Lots of love,
Legan
