I Spent 15 Years Hating Myself - Here's What Finally Made Me Feel Worthy
The Brutal Truth About Why Success Didn't Fix My Self-Hatred (And What Actually Did)
At 25, I thought I had everything figured out.
The six-figure consulting gig. The sculpted body. The Instagram-worthy vacations that impressed my followers.
I was living the dream – or at least, that's what everyone kept telling me.
But every Monday morning, staring at myself in the mirror, I felt nothing but emptiness.
Another week of pretending. Another week of chasing that next high that promised to make me feel complete.
You know that feeling? The one where you're standing in a room full of people praising your latest achievement, and all you can think is, "If they only knew what a fraud I am"?
I see it now in my therapy practice.
That same haunted look in my clients' eyes - especially my LGBTQ+ clients who grew up like I did, in homes where being different meant being wrong.
Two-thirds of them tell me stories that mirror my own: achievements piled high like armor, perfect lives constructed like fortresses, all to keep the truth hidden.
Back then, I couldn't see it. I was too busy building my consulting business, not because I loved the work but because every new client felt like another barrier between me and my inadequacy.
The Perfect Life That Wasn't Fulfilling
My Instagram feed told a story of success that would impress any millennial.
Breakfast meetings at trendy cafes, business class flights to exotic locations, and gym selfies showing off those hard-earned abs.
Friends started calling me their personal travel guru, asking for recommendations on the latest new destinations.
What those perfectly filtered photos didn't show: me, alone in my apartment at 3 AM, scrolling through my own feed and wondering why none of it felt genuine.
The exhaustion of maintaining this carefully curated image was overwhelming me, one perfectly staged post at a time.
Every morning, I followed the same routine.
I'd stand in front of my bathroom mirror, practicing my "I've got this" smile while my inner voice whispered, "Faker."
Then I'd step into my daily performance - what I now jokingly call "Dancing with the Achievers."
My days were a blur of client meetings where I'd wear confidence like an expensive suit, gym sessions where anything less than perfection felt like a failure, and social events where I'd play the role of the successful young entrepreneur.
All the while, a voice in my head kept whispering: "If they really knew you..."
The Turning Point That Changed Everything
It happened on what was supposed to be the proudest day of my life.
I'd just landed a contract that made my mom cry happy tears when I told her - defeating agencies twice the size of mine.
My phone was filled with congratulations. My LinkedIn post about it was gaining significant attention in our industry circles.
And there I sat, in my apartment with its view, feeling absolutely nothing.
No - worse than nothing. I felt like the biggest fraud who had ever lived.
That evening, as I stared at my reflection in the darkened window, something inside me finally broke.
No amount of success was ever going to fill this emptiness.
I could land every dream client in the world, and that hollow feeling would still be there, waiting for me in the quiet moments.
The truth hit me hard: I hated my career and the industry. I was good at it, sure, but being good at something doesn't mean it's good for you.
So, I did something unexpected.
I quit.
Working with people was the only part of my work that felt genuine.
In those rare moments when I could drop the expert facade and connect with another human being, I felt truly myself.
It reminded me of something I'd told my first therapist in my early 20s: "There has to be a reason for all this pain."
Maybe this was it.
Maybe all those years of struggling with my own worth could help others facing the same challenge.
So, I enrolled in a long academic psychology program.
I started the process of closing my business.
And I watched people's jaws drop when I told them I was walking away from everything I'd built.
The Unexpected Turn
You're probably waiting for the part where I had some significant realization or life-changing encounter.
Truth is, it was much more complicated than that.
I returned to therapy.
I started paying attention to that voice in my head that kept saying "not enough."
Every time it showed up, I'd challenge it:
"Says who?"
"According to which rulebook?"
"Who told you that's how life operates?"
It felt silly at first like I was having arguments with myself.
But slowly, those questions started to reveal something important.
The Truth Behind Perfectionism
During my psychology training, I explored research about shame and self-worth, particularly in the LGBTQ+ community.
What I found resonated deeply: what we call perfectionism is often just armor against shame.
We're not trying to be perfect - we're trying to be resilient.
I thought about all the years I spent trying to be exceptional just to feel worthy of taking up space.
I saw myself in every pattern I researched:
The overachiever who couldn't enjoy successes
The perfectionist who edited photos for hours before posting
The "successful" person who felt like an imposter
The friend who gave great advice but couldn't follow it themselves
What Actually Worked (After All Other Options Failed)
The real change started when I stopped trying to feel worthy and started questioning the whole concept of "enough."
It wasn't pretty or Instagram-worthy, but it was real.
I started sitting with my feelings instead of avoiding them.
In group therapy, I finally spoke the truth about my struggles - not the polished version, but the messy reality of waking up every day feeling like I had to earn my right to exist.
I explored the source of my "not enough" story.
Found my eight-year-old self, trying to be "the good son" in a family that couldn't accept who I was.
I realized I was still living by the rules I'd created to navigate a childhood that was long over.
The hardest part was learning to treat myself with the same compassion I would show a friend.
When clients tell me that they're struggling with perfectionism, I see my younger self in their eyes.
I see that kid who thought someone would finally love him if he could just be perfect enough.
The Unexpected Freedom
Change didn't happen quickly.
Some days, I still catch myself slipping into old patterns. But now I notice something different:
I can post a photo without spending a long time editing it first.
I can make a mistake in a therapy session and acknowledge it without shame.
I can say, "I don't know," without feeling like a disappointment.
I can just be.
The most unexpected part?
I stopped needing to feel "enough" because I realized the question itself was based on a false premise.
Enough for what?
Enough for whom?
A Unique Conclusion
This isn't a story about achieving perfect self-love. Those kinds of neat, tidy endings exist only in self-help books.
This is a story about learning to accept imperfection.
About understanding that the voice saying "not enough" isn't the truth - it's just an old story I learned when I was too young to know better.
These days, when I look in the mirror, I see someone who's both a work in progress and completely worthy, exactly as he is.
The old voice still pipes up sometimes, but now I know how to respond.
To my clients struggling with the same demons, I share what took me 15 years to learn: self-worth isn't a destination.
It's a daily practice of choosing self-compassion over self-judgment, even when it's hard.
I haven't "fixed" myself because I finally realized I was never broken.
I've just learned to be brave enough to be myself.
To let others see the flaws.
To trust that I'm worthy of love and belonging, not because of what I achieve, but simply because I exist.
The voice that used to whisper, "You're not enough," hasn't completely vanished.
But now, another voice - stronger, kinder, and truer - responds: "You don't have to be."
And finally, I believe it.
❓When did you first realize external validation wasn't filling the void? What happened, and what did you learn about yourself in that moment?
👉🏻Share your story in the comments - your experience might be exactly what someone else needs to hear.