I surrendered myself to the cages of others' expectations, cultural mandates and institutional allegiances. Until I buried who I was in order to beco… - Glennon Doyle

Feelings all your feelings is hard, but that's what they're for. Feelings are for feeling. All of them. Even the hard ones.

That's when I stopped looking at Abby and thinking: What is my anger telling me about her? And started asking: What is my anger telling me about me? My anger was delivering a package with one of my root beliefs in it — a belief that was programmed into me during childhood: Resting is laziness, and laziness is disrespect. Worthiness and goodness are earned with hustle.
When Abby rested right in front of me — outside family-designated and approved resting times — she was challenging that root belief. She was activating it, unearthing it, bringing it into the light where I could see it. But unlike my root belief about honesty and fidelity, I didn't like this one. It didn't feel true to me. Because when I looked at Abby relaxing, my anger was almost a bitter yearning.
Must be nice.
Must be nice to rest in the middle of the damn day.
Must be nice to feel worthy of the space you take up on the earth without hustling to earn it every minute.
Must be nice to rest and still feel worthy.
I want to be able to rest and still feel worthy, too.
I didn't want to change Abby. I wanted to change my belief about worthiness.

Destruction is essential to construction. If we want to build the new, we must be willing to let the old burn. [...]

The building of the true and beautiful means the destruction of the good enough.