This is something I originally shared as a Facebook post, but after reflecting on it more, I felt it was powerful enough to explore in a blog.

Something I’ve been thinking about lately is self-worth, and how deeply conditioned we are to believe that we have to earn it. It’s a quiet yet powerful undercurrent in our culture: the idea that worth must be proved. That you have to do or become something extraordinary in order to be deserving of dignity, compassion, or even just basic care. And it shows up everywhere. In the way benefits systems are structured, in the language we hear in the media, and in the way we talk about people who are struggling, especially those dealing with addiction or mental illness. We view their circumstances as a moral failure, rather than recognising the complex, layered realities of being human.

This conditioning also shows up in how we talk about people who are deemed successful. We project value onto them because of what they’ve achieved or earned, as if success automatically proves their worth. We hold them up as examples of who is deserving of admiration, respect, and opportunity. While celebrating success is great, it becomes a problem when we make success the standard for worthiness. That’s when we’re back in the same trap, believing that only those who’ve become extraordinary matter, and everyone else is less than.

But here’s the truth: being alive is enough. And I don’t mean that as a vague platitude. I mean it as a radical truth that challenges the foundation of how we’ve been taught to see ourselves and others. We live in a world where worth is often seen as conditional. That conditioning runs deep and is baked into policy, healthcare, education, employment, housing, and so many other aspects of our lives. It lives in the expectations we place on ourselves, in how we measure our value, and in the judgments we make, quietly or openly, about those who don’t meet the standard.

Addiction is a clear example of this. It’s often viewed as a failure of willpower or morality, but addiction is actually a response to pain. It’s a way to find relief, to soothe something that feels unbearable inside. People don’t become addicted because they’re weak or broken; they become addicted because they’re trying to survive something, often something that’s been with them for a long time, even if they can’t name it. When we begin to see addiction through this lens, it becomes impossible to view someone’s struggle as a reflection of their worth. Their worth was never in question. What’s missing is compassion, understanding, and systems that don’t treat suffering as a personal flaw. How do you view those who are struggling? Those in addiction, the homeless, the ones who appear to have “fallen short”?

This belief that we must prove our worth is what keeps so many people trapped in shame, silence, and a constant struggle to prove they are enough. It’s exhausting, and it’s everywhere. It shapes our relationships, our work, our politics, and even our inner sense of self-worth.

Reclaiming our worth is not about repeating affirmations or simply deciding to feel better about ourselves. It’s about consciously unlearning what the world has taught us; that value comes from productivity, status, appearance, or success. It’s about noticing all the places in our lives where this belief still holds power. And while it’s definitely not easy, it’s necessary. This conditioning runs deep. It takes practice to catch the judgments we make, both about ourselves and others, and to ask ourselves whether those judgments are rooted in truth or old stories that were never ours to begin with.

The solution starts with awareness, but it also asks for something deeper: a kind of re-parenting. A consistent, gentle rewriting of the inner script that says, “I’ll be enough when…” and replacing it with something more truthful. Something like, “I am already enough, and I choose to show up from that place, even when it feels unfamiliar.” That’s how we begin to shift. Slowly, deliberately, and with a commitment to remembering what’s always been true: we were never meant to prove our worth. We were meant to live from it.

This is something I work with every day in the context of money, because our relationship with money is often a reflection of how worthy we believe we are. While I explore this in my financial coaching and programmes, I’ve also been developing something new. Something that goes deeper into the question of worth—not just as an idea we understand, but as something we begin to embody. It’s still unfolding, but I know this kind of work is essential. When we start to shift the way we see ourselves at a core level, when we begin to truly believe we are enough as we are, the changes ripple out into every area of our lives.

I’m curious: does this resonate with you when you look beneath the surface? When you start to notice where your sense of worth comes from, how it shows up in your decisions, your money, your relationships, and your inner voice? I’d love to know what comes up for you when you sit with it. Feel free to share, if you feel comfortable. These are the kinds of conversations that can begin to change everything.