There were 25 years of my life where I believed a lie that I myself created. Somehow I was convinced that more people in a space, family or group meant less for me.
If there was more than one body in my bed, I had less space for myself.
When my brother was born the attention that was once mine, suddenly split.
The more friends I introduced to each other the less friends actually stuck by my side.
So you see where I got this idea that more of something meant less of something?
Year 26 came along and yet another family member entered my family. Another person to take from my diminishing time with people I loved. Another person to take the attention and space that was once all mine.
Except this time I realized how insane it felt to be scared of a person joining in. How could adding a loving person to my family mean less love for me?
Scarcity. The feeling of not having what I need when I need it. The feeling of not being good enough. The feeling of more is less. Coming from scarcity means never feeling complete, content or whole.
I spent 26 years feeling like me, and everything around me was not whole.
It turns out in life, when you add more of a good thing to the space, family, group, world.... It actually adds more of a good thing. When I realized I was a whole human, good enough, with enough, I didn't feel like I was grasping at everything to fill me up. I was no longer searching for me. I was just being me. I was no longer worried about me, I was able to focus on others.
When I come from a place of wholeness, stuff isn't about me any more, I get to choose to add to the beauty that is happening around me, I no longer feel left out of it.
It's true, what they say, the more the merrier!