This year’s Oscar-nominated movie "Room," starring Brie Larson, presented numerous challenges for director Lenny Abrahamson and cinematographer Danny Cohen. As the title implies, the majority of the film takes place within the confines of one room.

But the movie itself challenged me as well.

Larson’s character -- most commonly referred to as “Ma” -- was kidnapped as a teenage girl, held captive in a garden shed, and made subject to the sexual whims of the villainous “Old Nick.”

During her seven-year captivity, she gives birth to a son, Jack, who at the beginning of the film has just turned 5 years old.

The unique situation that Jack is born into necessitates a unique upbringing. Ma does her very best to make his experience as healthy and human as possible under the circumstances.

To do this, she creates crafts, invents games, and constantly teaches her son as much as possible in their own world, which they refer to with the singular title "Room."

When life no longer seems manageable to Ma she orchestrates an escape which turns into a success.

Unfortunately, nothing could prepare her to re-engage the world she lost for almost a decade.

A slew of media attention leads journalists and television personalities to introduce her to the possibility that perhaps she did not do what was best for her son by creating a world for him in the room.

The possibility that she might be, to any extent, responsible for the abnormality of her son proves to be too much for her and sends her on a journey that leads to one selfish decision after another.

As the movie nears its end, mother and son share a tender moment after being reunited again following Ma’s tragic leave of absence:

MA

I'm not a good enough Ma.

JACK

But you're Ma.

The exchange is a simple one, but it gave me pause as I watched in the dark movie theater.

So often I question my role in life. Everything boils down to the fact that I’m not a complete or good enough Me.

I have an idea of what that should look like, and I ultimately always fall short of it.

Still, at the end of the day, I’m me. And I’m the only one that gets to be that.

In that same train of thought, I had to scold myself for the times I thought other people playing other roles in my life weren’t good enough.

Whether it be a parent, friend, girlfriend, teacher, sibling, or anything else, they are undeniably those things. And it matters less that they were perfect (an unobtainable goal or expectation) and more that they decided to continue to be what they are to the best of their ability.

If it’s not about what you bring to the table but merely about showing up, then it must also be true that the level of performance in a given role is less important than one’s sincere commitment to participating in that role.

That’s how "Room" challenged me.