Use code DAD23 for 20% off + Free shipping on $45+ Shop Now!
You Are Enough
Heartbreak, Healing, and Becoming Whole
By Mandy Hale
Formats and Prices
- Trade Paperback $15.99 $21.99 CAD
- ebook $9.99 $11.99 CAD
- Hardcover $22.00 $28.00 CAD
- Audiobook Download (Unabridged)
This item is a preorder. Your payment method will be charged immediately, and the product is expected to ship on or around December 17, 2019. This date is subject to change due to shipping delays beyond our control.
Also available from:
After years of trying to prove she was enough in the world’s eyes, even working alongside Oprah and hitting the New York Times bestseller list, Mandy hit rock bottom. But as it turned out, that very rock bottom became the most firm foundation she had ever planted her feet on. A foundation so solid, it finally provided the springboard she needed to outrun the taunting shadow of unworthiness that she’d tried to escape her whole life.
Now she wants readers to see that though life may not always be lighthearted and happy and shiny, each woman is deserving of the life she dreams of and hopes for. Nothing readers do can ever take away from their worthiness or enough-ness in God’s eyes.
This book is for any woman who wants to overcome heartbreak, claim her healing and step into wholeness!
What a concept.
Fitting. Sufficient. Adequate. Acceptable. Complete. Not lacking. ENOUGH.
Whatever that sense of “okayness” is that some people are born with—well, I’ve never had it. I’ve never felt like I quite measured up to everyone else. From the time I was a little girl, I struggled with not feeling worthy: worthy of friendships, of opportunities, of love. (The great irony being that my full name means “worthy-of-love princess.”)
This sense of lack has followed me my entire life and has impacted me in both negative and positive ways. Negatively, because it’s led to me choosing wrong people to love and staying in friendships and situations that were not honoring to me, long after I should have walked away. Positively, because when you carry around an innate sense of unworthiness, you tend to hustle for your worth. Work a little harder than everyone else just to prove that you are valuable, you are important, you are ENOUGH. In that respect, my constant need to prove myself has made me a go-getter, and some incredible career opportunities have come to me as a result of my tenacity.
But through it all—even when working alongside Oprah and speaking at the biggest church in the country and hitting the New York Times best-seller list—I carried around this shadow of lack and insecurity and unworthiness. This taunting, cruel shadow that was always one step behind me, making sure to remind me that no matter how far I rose in life, I would never rise high enough to outrun it. I would never really “earn my stripes.” I would never be ENOUGH.
Then…I wound up in a mental hospital, and everything changed.
A mental hospital. Let’s keep it real, folks. By society’s standards (not mine), this is possibly the very lowest of the low places. And although I have experienced it firsthand and know that the people within those walls are some of the best I’ve ever encountered, those who have no experience with mental illness or depression or treatment or recovery view it with fear and judgment and even distaste. We as a people have a habit of coping with things we don’t understand with defense mechanisms like mockery and criticism and cruelty. (Which is incredibly unfortunate and a tendency that we, collectively, as humans, need to fight with everything we have.)
The prior year of my life leading up to the mental hospital was without a doubt the most disappointing and challenging and heartbreaking year. Up to that point, I had prided myself, as many people do, on an ability to bounce back. To “roll with the punches.” To get back up and try, try again. But somewhere in the midst of family tragedy and career disappointment and relationship failures, I lost my ability to persevere. I lost the essence of who I was. It was all mired in the “life-i-ness” of life. I simply woke up one morning and couldn’t take another step.
So that’s how I found myself—a writer whose message was all about inspiration and hope and positivity—completely bereft of all of those things and struggling to get out of bed and live my life. Struggling to the point where I had to enroll in an intensive outpatient program at a mental hospital for crippling anxiety and depression.
Rock bottom, it would seem.
But, as it turns out, it was that very rock bottom that became the firmest foundation I had ever planted my feet on. A foundation so solid it finally provided the springboard I needed to outrun that teasing, taunting shadow of unworthiness that had followed me my entire life.
Sometimes it takes getting pushed to the very edge before you can find your voice and courage to speak out again. Sometimes it takes hitting that rock bottom to realize you’re done descending and it’s time to rise. Sometimes it takes being told you’re nothing—being made to feel like you’re nothing—to help you see that you are complete.
YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.
You see, sometimes you have to realize that you’ve HAD enough to realize that you ARE enough.
Over these past two years, I’ve seen just how closely those two principles are intertwined: the rock bottom and the soaring heights…the valley and the mountaintop…the agony of defeat and the thrill of victory. How sometimes it takes great heartbreak to find great healing and even greater wholeness. How being told how unworthy you are of great love and happiness and beauty and light can actually help you see once and for all just how worthy you really are. Just how deserving you are of the things and the life that you dream of and hope for, and how nothing you could ever do or not do takes away from your worthiness or your “enoughness.”
Over the course of a year and a half, I descended into total darkness. I was told I never meant anything to someone I’d loved for a decade. I lost people I loved—one, tragically, to suicide. I had my heart broken more than once. I sat in total silence in front of a blank screen for hours on end, waiting for words to pour out of me that seemed would never come. I questioned everything about myself: my faith, my judgment, my friendships, my career path, my worth, my value, my purpose. My LIFE.
But through it all, I’m still standing.
I’m still here.
I’m bruised, banged-up, significantly more guarded than I was two years ago, more realistic than idealistic these days…but I’m still here. The doubt, the fear, the heartbreak, the depression, the anxiety, the insecurity: It didn’t win. The people who hurt me and let me down: They didn’t win. The disappointment and the failure, and the hopes and deferred dreams: Nope. They didn’t win either.
I’ve always struggled with feeling like I was ENOUGH. Enough for love interests. Enough for my former publisher. Enough for my family and friends and readers and myself, and, yes…even God.
But over this past year and a half, I’ve been in the midst of painful, beautiful transformation. A journey of heartbreak. A journey of healing. And a journey of becoming WHOLE. A journey I now want to invite you on with me.
I’m finally learning to accept myself as I am. Learning to like myself as I am. Learning to like and accept my life as it is. Learning to stop begging people to want me or love me or make me feel like I’m ENOUGH. And learning that it’s okay to stand up and say: I’ve had ENOUGH. I’ve had enough of hustling for my worth. I’ve had enough of groveling to people unworthy of me for scraps of love or time or attention. I’ve had enough of keeping people in my life who diminish me. And I’ve had enough of trying to be anything other than me…because I, in all my imperfect, messy glory, am perfectly ENOUGH.
Have you had enough? And are you ready to declare that YOU ARE ENOUGH?
A few months ago, I made my declaration of enoughness official, with my best friend from group therapy by my side. Someone I didn’t know a year ago but who is now my sister for life, all thanks to the brokenness that brought us together. I tattooed the word “enough” on my wrist…a way of branding myself, I suppose, for those days when my worthiness tank feels a little low. So now when I start to forget how ENOUGH I am, I can just look down at my wrist and look from side to side at the people next to me, doing this wild and beautiful and difficult life thing with me, and remember. Remember this season of my life. Remember these precious moments of struggle and surrender and fighting to become the person I’m meant to be. Remember that I might not be exactly who and where I want to be but that I’m taking steps every day to get there.
I am ENOUGH. And you are enough.
Sometimes we just need a little reminder.
I hope this book will be that reminder for you.
It’s not always going to be pretty. It’s not as lighthearted and happy and shiny as some of my previous work. We’re going to get real and raw and gritty within these pages. Because life isn’t always lighthearted and happy and shiny, and it’s okay to admit that. Some chapters of our lives are going to be darker than others, and it’s okay to admit that.
Sometimes you’ve gotta get a little lost in order to get found. And it’s okay to admit that.
If you’ve had enough of being lost, of being sad, of being depressed, of being hurt and scared and downtrodden and anxious and alone…this book is for you.
If you’ve always felt like you never quite measured up…this book is for you.
If you’re ready to make your own declaration of enoughness…this book is for you.
If you are heartbroken, if you’re in search of healing, if you’re struggling with everything you have to gather your missing pieces back together into something that even slightly resembles wholeness…this book is for you.
If you’ve come to the end of yourself, I hope this book will be your new beginning. Just as it’s my new beginning. We’re taking this journey together. Declaring that we’ve had enough and we are enough. Overcoming our heartbreak. Claiming our healing. Stepping into our wholeness.
Let’s get started.
When You Lose Yourself, You Find Yourself
When you lose yourself, you find yourself.” Seven words, spoken to me in passing by a smiling man on a sidewalk during my daily walk.
He wasn’t really dressed for exercising…or even for the heat. He wore street clothes, not workout gear, and a wool stocking cap in the eighty-something-degree weather. He had the biggest smile on his face.
I took a walk almost every single day down beautiful tree-lined Main Street…and I’d never seen the man before.
When you lose yourself, you find yourself. Just those seven words, delivered with a great big grin in response to the neighborly hello I uttered to him in passing. He didn’t explain himself. He just kept walking. And I kept walking…shaking my head in wonder as I continued down the street, on my way home.
The man couldn’t possibly know that I had been in a season of feeling lost, stuck, unsure about what was next for me. How I’d literally written in my journal (more than a few times) the sentence Jesus, help me find myself again. Asking Him to help me find the Mandy who was idealistic, who found enchantment and wonder and inspiration everywhere, who believed that absolutely anything was possible, and who, I daresay, even had a touch of magic running through her veins. To help me find the Mandy that I used to be…the one who had simple, childlike faith. The one who, as a child, was constantly singing or humming, because I found life so utterly delightful that I had joy overflowing and just had to open up my mouth to let it all come tumbling out.
The one who still dared to imagine that fairy tales could and do come true. The one who existed before life came in and got hard, before a string of heartbreaks caused me to view love through a much less hopeful lens than before, before I dismissed my fairy-tale dreams and childlike enthusiasm as “kid stuff” and hung it up on the shelf to gather dust, relegated to the same spot as my ballet shoes and my Barbie dolls and my Uno cards.
The man in the stocking cap also couldn’t see into the future…could he? He couldn’t see how my footsteps that were carrying me so assuredly down Main Street today would carry me to depths I never dreamed I’d fall tomorrow.
How within a month, my family would face the most traumatic, gut-wrenching season we’d ever encountered as my brother-in-law lost his leg and almost his life. How within weeks after that, I’d lose my publisher of four years, my confidence, and even my religion.
And the year after that, the love of my life. Within hours of losing my precious grandmother. And a few months before losing a dear friend to suicide.
He couldn’t possibly know that the next year and a half of my life would be shrouded in loss and heartbreak and questioning everything I’d ever known and a dark night of the soul like nothing I had ever experienced before.
The man on the street in the stocking cap couldn’t possibly know these things.
Or could he?
When you lose yourself, you find yourself.
I’m not saying the man was an angel…but I’m not saying he wasn’t.
All I know is, he was sent across my path to deliver a message that had already been formulating in my mind and my heart for quite some time. I just hadn’t found a way to put it into words.
The man on the street in the stocking cap helped me find the words.
And I think, friends, he might have even helped me find my way. Or “unfind” my way, as the case may be.
Because over the next year and a half of my life, I would lose myself and my way completely. I would lose friends and loved ones and ideals I held dear, and idealistic notions about life and parts of myself I would never get back…but I would also lose fear and self-doubt and pretense, and any need I ever had to be anything other than exactly who and what I was.
And I would find myself again. Not the same version of me that I was looking for, but a stronger version. A wiser version. A woman who knew that she was enough, just as she was. A woman who had been tried in the fire but, instead of being burned by it, came out gold.
A woman who, finally, after doubting and questioning and striving and hustling for her worth for years…finally, finally came to the realization that she was and is and always has been…
And every moment of every struggle and success and high and low and heartbreak and healing I would experience for the next year and a half was designed to bring me one step closer to that understanding.
All of that was coming. Not on this day, but it was coming.
And the man in the stocking cap on Main Street seemed to kick it all off. With a grin, and a knowing lope, he went about his way, and I went about mine.
A few moments later, when I turned to look back at him over my shoulder, he was gone.
And a few weeks later, the life I had come to know was gone, too.
Because that’s sort of the crux of this whole life thing: Nothing beyond the very moment we’re living in is known, which can feel terrifying. There’s no agenda here. No itinerary. We are often forced to take the step before we can even see the staircase. But in the midst of all that uncertainty and lack of clarity, there lies a wild beauty. A hope. Possibility. The promise of something bigger than us, happening just beneath the surface that we can’t see. So when you’re tempted to look for constant clarity and answers, just close your eyes and breathe and remind yourself that God knows what you’re ready for. He knows what your arms are able to carry. He knows what your heart can contain. He knows what’s coming, and He knows how and when to prepare you for it. He knows the right time, the right place, the right person, the right answer. He knows, so you don’t have to. You’re free to relax and let go, and, yes, maybe even lose yourself a little in order to find yourself, trusting that in His perfect way, in His perfect timing, all will become clear. And you will get through it. And you are enough, for whatever comes your way.
One Monday Morning
You never expect the really big moments in life to arrive in the way they do. A middle-of-the-night phone call rarely brings good news. A middle-of-the-night phone call is, in fact, almost always expected to bring bad news. But a phone call on a very unassuming ordinary Monday morning? That’s not the kind of phone call that tends to change your life.
Until it does.
- "We might chase money or power or love, but all of those are just symptoms of our never-ending search for one thing-enough. To be enough. To matter enough. To be whole enough. I'm thrilled Mandy is bravely jumping in to discuss this small little world that causes big problems."—Jon Acuff, New York Times bestselling author of Finish, Give Yourself the Gift of Done
- "Mandy finally says out loud what so many of us try so hard not to think about ourselves. Her raw, real, brave honesty is infectious. Read. Absorb. And be free!"—Christi Paul, CNN Weekend New Day Anchor, HLN anchor, author of Love Isn't Supposed to Hurt
- "I love Mandy for being transparent enough to go deep into the hidden places we don't want anyone to see. Baring her flaws, her hurts, and her soul give me the courage to face the imperfect things I hide behind my smile. Mandy is the only author I know who fearlessly tackles the question Why are we still single? She goes beyond the tired clichés and gets to the root of the problem and shows you how to get back up even when you constantly get knocked down. The words coming from Mandy's heart are like a soothing balm. Thank you for showing me no matter what, I am enough."—Sherri Shepherd, actress, comedian, Emmy Award-winning talk show host and New York Times bestselling author
- "Even though Mandy is known by millions for being the inspirational voice for single women, this book is a must-read for all adults, regardless of their marital status. In her unique heartfelt and authentic way, she shares her latest emotional journey in the pursuit of true love and personal fulfillment and reminds us that stumbling, crying, doubting, thinking, laughing, and learning along the way is expected. It's real, which means you're real-and that you have been, and always will be, enough."—Amy Capetta, health and wellness writer
- "Mandy's words are empowering and inspiring. She acknowledges that adversity is something we all face-but by accepting and loving who we are, we can overcome any personal obstacle we encounter."—Derrick Levasseur, TV personality and author of The Undercover Edge
- "In a world where we are often subjected to the carefully curated, seemingly perfect version of other people's lives, Mandy Hale's You Are Enough takes us on a journey of self-discovery that is powerful and refreshingly authentic! Her story is equal parts relatable and inspiring, and I hope every woman who has ever had a moment of self-doubt (most of us) has the chance to read this book so that it can serve as a beautiful reminder that they are indeed (more than) enough!"—Devyn Simone, TV host, dating coach, matchmaker
- "Mandy has done it again: You Are Enough is a timely and timeless reminder to women everywhere that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. That you alone are good enough: with a spouse, without a spouse, it does not matter. And that truly, once you love you, and know your value...everyone else around you will know the same."—Sophia A. Nelson, award-winning NBC journalist and best-selling author of The Woman Code
- "Wow! What a beautiful, brave, and inspiring book. Mandy Hale has been through it all-heartbreak, loss, self-doubt, questioning of all she held dear-and has come out so much stronger and more beautiful on the other side. Her journey inspired me to remember that, yes, I too am enough! Any woman who has weathered dark times in her life (and who hasn't?) will find a kindred spirit in Mandy and great comfort in her words."—Francesca Hogi, Life and Love coach
- "I think sometimes people are afraid to be real with their readers. I think they want to help us but aren't willing to share their entire journey. This book is so refreshing. I finally see someone's complete process and I find so much of myself in there. I finally see the beauty of the journey and I realize the freedom in Mandy's honesty. Because of that, I am truly able to see that through it all, I am enough.
- On Sale
- Dec 17, 2019
- Page Count
- 176 pages