The holiday season is officially here and I’m here to deliver some shocking news: Santa isn’t real.
When I was a kid (and slightly nerdier than I am today) I remember trying to prove he existed. Whether that be by staying up late on Christmas Eve or trying to calculate just how fast his sled would have to travel to hit every kid’s home in one night, I was determined to believe in him.
The trouble was that for most of my life, I wanted to believe in everything but myself. No matter how outlandish it might seem, it was easier to believe in unicorns (which I do) than the idea that I’m perfect exactly as I am.
Not believing in myself sabotaged every area of my life:
- I didn’t apply to jobs out of fear they’d reject me
- I dated assholes
- I didn’t set or maintain any boundaries
