Wauw this morning one of my best friends sent me a picture of the sea stating she was thinking of me.
How nice to get this message on a gray morning while walking my dog, she said she was thinking of me because she woke up with Lionel Ritchies song, ballerina girl, saying the song seems as if it is written for me. What she does not know is that I was a huge fan of Lionel, the first disk I ever bought.
I just listened to the song again, when it started playing, memories came back—the rehearsals, the discipline, the endless pursuit of perfection that ballet demands. It’s funny how a song can pull you back in time, to a world where every movement was scrutinized, every step meant something, and every misstep felt monumental.
What strikes me the most is the sentence : ’You are more than enough’.
Very often this is how I feel about the people I love around me, that they are more than enough!
Especially when I think of my daughters, I feel like a very proud mother of how they are being 16 and 17 in this world full of challenges.
However, I have to be honest, I have a hard time believing I am more than enough.
In those days, I was so focused on striving, on improving, on being “good enough” by someone else’s standards. Ballet, beautiful as it is, teaches you the art of precision and control. It’s a world where grace and strength are everything, but it’s also a world where self-acceptance can sometimes feel like a distant goal. It’s as if you’re always reaching for a standard that remains just out of reach.
And I realized that, in many ways, I’ve carried that ballerina mindset into other areas of my life—the constant striving, the belief that I need to do more, be more, in order to be “enough.” It’s a mindset that pushes you forward but can also wear you down if you never stop to recognize your own worth.
Listening to Ballerina Girl reminded me of a simple but powerful truth: sometimes, it’s okay to pause and acknowledge that we are already more than enough. The grace we see in others, the strength we admire, exists in each of us. We don’t have to be perfect, nor do we need to reach some unattainable ideal to be worthy.
Being enough isn’t about the applause, the recognition, or the flawless execution. It’s about embracing who we are, imperfections and all, and finding peace in the journey.
So, here’s to all of us who still carry a bit of the ballerina’s spirit—may we learn to balance our passion with self-compassion, and may we always remember that, just as we are, we are more than enough.
