by Karla Mundo
Have you ever felt like you weren't enough? Not trendy or fashionable enough, not fitting in, or failing to catch up with society's standards? Has anyone ever told you that you weren't bright enough, slender enough, pretty enough, or good enough? Isn't it time to embrace ourselves for who we are?
Now that I am a mother, I have a very different understanding of what being "enough" means. Like many, I used to believe that winning in sports, earning straight As, or landing "the position" at work were the only paths to making my family proud. Economic insecurity, self-doubt, and internal struggles often dictate whether people feel accepted, even if we aren't "successful" by traditional standards.
You must know that despite doubting myself for most of my life, I have also learned to believe in myself. For every person I encountered who doubted my dreams or abilities, I always met a teacher or a caring human who supported my ideals and encouraged or inspired me.
I cannot conform to a world in which children are constantly humiliated, bullied, ridiculed, and minimized—ultimately left unloved and uncared for. I imagine some children have never met anyone kind enough to tell them: "You know what? It does not matter what others say or think of you; what matters is what you think of yourself. Believe in yourself; you are worth 100."
Let me tell you a story:
A few years ago, while walking with my son in Fashion Island, a huge sign in a window caught my attention. The title said #Worth100, and below it was a poem titled “Enough Already.” I was curious to find out if this poem had to do with gun violence, the #MeToo movement, or any other campaign that has inspired us to refuse victimization. I stopped and read it in detail. It was profound.
As I read, I felt comforted, as if all my life I had been waiting for that kind of validation—for someone to voice these thoughts on human value and self-worth. As with most of the messages, books, and words that have caught my attention over the years, I don’t believe it was a coincidence. I needed to read those words at that exact moment in my life. I smiled, certain that God had led me to that window for a reason.
It felt strange that a store designed to sell expensive sporting clothes featured a poem inviting us to reflect on our existence. The idea was that we are worthy without a single title under our belts, without degrees, without material accumulation, without makeup, and without filters. "That's right," I said to myself. We are not what we buy, what we accumulate, what we achieve, or what we wear. No—we are enough just being ourselves, period.
The message on that window has resonated with me for a long time. It was reaffirmed later by U2 lyrics that say: “Walk on, walk on. What you've got, they can't deny, can't sell it or buy it.” In that moment, I interpreted both the lyrics and the poem as a message that we possess a certain goodness, courage, and inner light. While these traits may go unseen or unappreciated by friends, relatives, or strangers, they can never be denied or stolen by anyone.
The poem on that mall window brought me all the way back to my childhood and the birth of Giancarlo, my only son. It reminded me of the song “Bombero” by Argentine singers Facundo Cabral and Alberto Cortez. It tells the story of a child who wanted to be a fireman, but whose parents and grandparents spoke of his future as if it were already planned, regardless of his talents or dreams; he was to become a lawyer.
The poem “Enough Already” is a living testament to the pressure that many students and adults feel in our competitive society—driven by parents who expect only As, first place in everything, and nothing less than excellence. These educational and professional demands have led us to disregard who we are as a whole. Many of us have forgotten our "heart song," much like the characters in Happy Feet.
For too long, so many people have been made to believe they are unworthy if they haven't achieved wealth, titles, or recognition. Many strive to live the lives of the rich and famous seen in magazines. Ultimately, we have substituted our essence for achievements and appearances, telling ourselves it is the only way to be "worth 100." But that is not true.
Living in affluent Orange County, I have sometimes been caught up in this "indoctrinated" belief and panicked about my son’s future. After all, most parents want "what is best for our children." But is more pressure, more "doing," and more stress truly better? How much more is enough for the 1%?
Covid-19 was an undeniable lesson, reminding us that we are not immortal and that we only have the present moment, whether we like it or not. It reassured me that my son needed a childhood provided by presence more than anything material I could have bought. The playdates and the endless hours at parks, beaches, museums, and National Forests were more important than him becoming a chess master or a pro-swimmer at an early age. To me, my son is worth the same with or without a fashion style, a degree, a home, a car, or a religion.
It is true that we have created a society in which we cannot live on love alone—money rules the world and we need it to survive. Still, we could all place more importance on how our humane side is developing and how empathetic we are toward others' feelings, crises, and struggles. We could value others for their human traits rather than their material worth or social media popularity.
Today, we can make the choice to embrace ourselves regardless of who loves us. From there, we can embrace everyone around us. We can approach the new kid in the neighborhood, at school, or in the cafeteria. We can talk to the new person at work and welcome new neighbors—not because of their nationality, color, or economic status, but because they are human, just like us. We can continue embracing every human being for who they are, not what they have. Our goal should be to teach our children how to love and that they are worth 100 percent.
We must stop focusing on “What is he or she going to be when they grow up?” and start looking at who they are right now, sitting next to us. Let us enjoy the curiosity, creativity, imagination, and free spirits of children and students. No more teasing anyone about “how sensitive they are.” As the adage says, “If we take care of love, love will take care of you.”
Yes, as hard as it is to believe, we are enough beyond measure. Our sensitivity, vulnerability, compassion, and empathy are the tools love uses to help us relate to each other. Don’t ever let others minimize you, criticize you, or make you feel like less. Don’t fight hate with hate. Don’t become that which you do not like. Do not ignore your calling to help those less privileged than you. Do not let others change your good heart. You must know now that regardless of the mantras others repeat about you—or what they dislike about your personality, background, culture, or race—you are #Worth100.
When I was 16, the writer Og Mandino, in his bestseller The Greatest Miracle in the World, taught me that the life within us is the biggest miracle in the world. Living in hardship and survival mode since childhood, I have often forgotten that we humans are miracles. Fighting constantly for my right to exist and be cared for—and trying to bounce back to health without the support of family or neighbors after Covid-19—has certainly left me feeling angry and resentful at times. I have to remember often not to forget that my heartbeat is a reminder that I am alive and that I need to lead with my light, not with my darkness.
Professor and writer Leo Buscaglia left us a book for the purpose of teaching us how to live, love, and learn. So, love yourself regardless of whether others love you or not. Give others the love they need or seek. Can you imagine seven billion people filled with love instead of hate toward one another?
It is time for us to believe that we are enough and worth 100. Don't you agree?
