The Art of Being Enough

It’s the start of the fall semester: the gym is overcrowded, pumpkin spice everything is everywhere, Mini Target has nothing in stock, and my inbox is flooded with club callouts and career fair information. There’s so much to admire about this season; the energy, the ambition, the drive of students working tirelessly to be the “next great generation.” But every year, I have to remind myself of one thing: comparison is the thief of joy.

For some reason, I always fall into the same cycle. I see everyone around me doing incredible things, and I convince myself I need to add one more thing to my resume. I dive in, excited and determined, only to become completely overwhelmed by the workload I’ve taken on. And just when I finally catch my breath, I notice someone else doing even more, and suddenly I find yet another thing to sign up for. I start to feel exhausted, spread too thin, and even doubtful of my own abilities. I tell myself I just need to push harder, be more disciplined, and somehow, that will make me enough, but it never does.

The problem isn’t that we aren’t doing enough. The problem is how our minds adjust to our actions and begin to see them as the new baseline. Our brains are wired to seek more, especially when we are comparing ourselves to others. If our productivity is measured against someone else’s achievements, there is always someone doing “more.” And the more we chase that, the less satisfied we become, even if we’re accomplishing incredible things ourselves.

A few summers ago, I bought a paint-by-numbers kit and ended up with a beautiful portrait of Venice, Italy. Despite the fact that it really didn’t take any creativity on my part, it took hours, and when I finished, I was proud. I hung it above my nightstand so I could enjoy it daily. For weeks, I simply admired it, it was beautiful, and I had made it. Then, one day, I noticed a tiny section near the bottom I had forgotten to fill in. Suddenly, all I could see was that small imperfection. I felt frustrated and disappointed in myself. Every time I looked at the painting after that, the missing piece consumed my attention. But whenever someone else came over, they never noticed it until I pointed it out.

This is exactly how we treat ourselves sometimes. We focus on the “missing pieces” in our lives, what we haven’t done, what we’re not achieving, what we think is lacking, while ignoring the countless things we are accomplishing. We see ourselves as incomplete paintings, while everyone else seems perfect and fully realized. Our brains are wired to push us to improve, and that can be a wonderful motivator, but when it’s mixed with comparison, it becomes a trap. No matter how much we do, it will never feel like enough if we measure it against what others are doing.

So, how do we break this cycle? How do we rewire our brains to find contentment and satisfaction in our own achievements? The first step is to realize that our value is not defined by what we do, it is defined by who we are. This is something we hear often, but rarely take to heart. Our worth cannot be measured by accomplishments, resumes, or accolades. If it could, we would never feel enough, because there will always be someone doing something bigger, better, or more impressive. Chasing that endlessly is exhausting, unsustainable, and ultimately unfulfilling.

Instead, the work we need to do is inward. We need to examine our own values, understand what truly matters to us, and root our identity in our character rather than our achievements. When we do this, the “missing pieces” in our lives start to feel less critical. The tiny imperfections in our painting, the gaps in our resumes, the moments we feel behind—they are no longer evidence of failure; they are part of being human. Because the truth is, as soon as we fill one missing piece, another will appear. Life is inherently incomplete, and learning to embrace that incompleteness is a form of freedom.

This doesn’t mean we stop striving or stop challenging ourselves. But it does mean we stop defining our worth based on comparison. It means we take the time to pause, reflect, and intentionally ask ourselves: What really matters to me? What brings me joy and purpose? It means putting away the constant notifications, the emails, the deadlines, and instead turning inward to connect with what feels meaningful.

Figuring out who you are is not always easy. It takes courage to sit with yourself, to question your values, and to separate your identity from your achievements. But it is also one of the most beautiful journeys you can take. In this process, you discover that your worth is intrinsic. It exists independently of external accomplishments. And with that understanding comes a profound peace: missing pieces, imperfections, and moments of doubt no longer define your story.

So this fall, as emails flood in, as the gym is crowded, and as everyone around you seems to be moving faster than you, take a breath. Recognize that your worth is not determined by your resume, your schedule, or your productivity. You are valuable just as you are. 

So remember—your glass is full. Whether you see it that way is up to you.

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