Already Worthy

Lately I’ve noticed how often I am trying my best to not try so hard. 🤣

Even in rest, I catch myself slowing down with intention, relaxing with awareness, letting go in a focused way. There is still a subtle movement inside that wants to do it properly, to get it right. (Sounds familiar?)

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.” (Rumi)

In Dutch we have the word flink. It means capable, strong, well-behaved. And I notice what it asks of a body. How much we try to box ourselves in because we are wired with a deep social need to belong and be nurtured - and belonging, at its core, is simply our way to survive.

Especially as a mother, I see the strong ideas we hold about the way our children should behave. A toddler who doesn’t want to give a goodbye kiss. A child who doesn’t say thank you in the exact tone we expect. A teenager who doesn’t feel like making small talk with visiting relatives. Immediately there is tension in the room. A raised eyebrow. A whisper: “Come on, be flink.” And when they don’t comply, we as adults feel impelled to comment. To explain. To correct. To shape them into the constructions we were framed into ourselves.

And it doesn’t stop with children.

At work, being flink means saying yes when your body says no. Finishing the task even when you are exhausted. Smiling in meetings. Staying composed when something feels unfair. In friendships, it can mean listening endlessly while not naming your own limits. In relationships, it can mean keeping the peace instead of speaking the truth. On social media, it looks like being strong, balanced, grateful, while privately holding overwhelm.

So it becomes so clear to me how we are trained into being in control. Being flink is rewarded. It brings approval, safety, recognition, and most importantly: love. The teacher praises the quiet child. The employer promotes the reliable one. The family calls you mature because you “handle things so well.” So we adapt. We become easy, reliable, strong, joyful, happy. At least, that’s how it looks on the outside.

I recognise this as a deep good girl / good boy pattern. A way of learning how to be acceptable. How to not disturb. How to fit into what is expected of us. And when we dive beyond the superficial behavior, we start to see what is happening on a deeper level. The tight jaw when you swallow your words. The shallow breath when you try not to cry. The constant scanning of the room to see if everyone is okay. How much of our so-called stability is actually regulation. How much energy goes into “doing it right” or “not being too much.”

I’m curious if you recognise this in yourself too. The moment you say “it’s fine” while your stomach contracts. The automatic smile. The quick apology for taking up space.

I also feel how much of this is shaped and reinforced by culture. Schools reward sitting still and performing. Families praise the child who makes life easier. Workplaces benefit from employees who regulate themselves and rarely question. Spiritual spaces admire calmness and composure over honest emotion. So the pattern keeps repeating itself, generation after generation.

Until we start making an active choice to rewrite our stories…

And this is where I keep landing, again and again: the remembering of who we already are - underneath it all.

Because we are human beings, messy and real. We laugh out loud. We cry. We yell. We get triggered. Angry. We change our minds. We get tired. We feel jealous. We feel immense love. We contradict ourselves. And none of that needs to be improved, fixed, regulated, optimised or held together in order to be worthy.

Our society appreciates performing. It rewards composure. It values productivity. It claps for the ones who keep going.

And yet, in essence, our soul simply is love.

Before we learned how to behave. Before we learned how to please. Before we learned how to be flink. We were already worthy.

Underneath It All

Lately, I am spending much time unlearning. Noticing the inner structures that keep me functioning, productive, “together.” The part that answers emails while exhausted. The part that smiles when I want to withdraw. The part that keeps everything smooth. And gently softening these behaviours. Not fighting them. Just seeing them.

It has been about listening to what moves when I stop managing myself. When I don’t rush to regulate the discomfort. When I allow the silence. When I let my no be a no. When I let my desire speak without immediately negotiating it.

And then sensing, slowly, how life begins to align again - through integrity. Through small daily actions that come from a deeper place. Saying yes because it is true. Saying no because it is true. Resting when I am tired. Speaking when something matters. Letting my children feel that their worth does not depend on how pleasant they are.

At the moment, I’m exploring this theme of Already Worthy more deeply inside my Pulse Membership. The doors open again on the 3rd of March. It is a space where we practice this remembering in the body. And bring it back into the world.

I’m also genuinely curious how this lands for you. What does worthiness mean in your own life? Where do you still feel you have to be flink in order to be loved?

With love,
Caroline