I’m perfect!

1 Jul

IMG_0548I’ve been thinking about perfection a whole lot lately. What it means to me, what it doesn’t. I think I’ve been striving for perfection for a long time. I’m not quite sure why.  So many seem to want perfect. A perfect body. Perfect children. Perfect life. Perfect…well…everything. I’m thinking for a long time I’ve wanted perfect.  Or for a long time I’ve been wanting to be seen as perfect. And I am perfect. Absolutely perfect. So you’re wondering just why I think I’m perfect. Let me sit on this throne of mine and tell you.

I’m perfect at overthinking. If there’s a girl out there who’s perfected overthinking, it could be me. The wheels turn about everything and anything.  Sometimes it keeps me up. Sometimes it’s not even warranted. My imagination is amazing apparently. Put that together with overthinking and I assure you I can come up with a great story.

I’m a perfectly messed up mom. Sometimes when I work overnight, my kids stay in their pajamas and play electronics until I can muster enough strength to get out of bed.  Sometimes, I forget to ask them if they brushed their teeth. And most of the time I cuss too much.

I’m perfect at pointing out every imperfection I have. (Can you tell?) I can point out the parts of my body that I long to improve. I can perfectly tell you I won’t wear shorts because my legs make me feel insecure. Feel better yet?

I’m perfect at being quiet when I’m upset, but equally perfect at running my awkard mouth when I’m dying inside and worried.  My coworkers will tell you they don’t know what to do with me when I’m quiet. As a matter of fact, a little while back, the supervisor of our environmental services came to check our floor, took one look at me and said. “I gotta leave. I don’t even know what to do with this mess. I’ll come back when you get your bubbly back.  I can’t watch you not be bubbly!” And he really did leave. And he squints one eye when he looks at me now, just to feel me out. Geez, can’t a chick have a bad day?

I’m perfect at doubting what I can accomplish. It’s only for a second or two but when I struggle…it’s real.

So let’s really get real now.  Do you see where I’m going with this? Fuck perfect!!!!!! I’m done with it.

Perfect. Is. Boring.

I’m never going to be perfect. No one is. The only thing I’m perfect at…is being anything but perfect.

I’m perfectly imperfect and wish nothing other than to be accepted for being that way. And if you can’t accept me for that…I’ll be fine eventually.  And I realize these things. I actually bet you may recognize them in yourself.

I may not like certain parts of me. But I love me. I’m worth something. (and yes, so are you!!) So my legs aren’t my favorite part. You know what? I can tell you those same legs are stronger than they were a couple of years ago.   Maybe I won’t get to wear the shorts I want…but I’m still working hard to try.  So, look at your perfectly imperfect self, and I bet if you take an honest look…you too will find strength.

I’m never going to be a perfect mom. And I don’t think I really want to be. I want my kids to know that perfect is boring and that sometimes, it’s ok to sit in your boxers and pjs til 2pm because mommy is going to be a crotchety old bag if you don’t.  And I’m always going to be the sarcastic mom, but that same mom will always make sure her kids feel loved.

Somedays I’m going to be quiet and hard to read. Some days I’m going to text in awkward pieces  and you’ll know I’m just having a hard time. Sometimes I’m going to mouth off and be angry. And know that I’m perfectly imperfect at being angry…angry means crying for me. Some days I’ll be able to keep up with your humor, some days I won’t.  And guess what… it’s totally normal!

Here’s the important part. And I may be talking about myself, but this goes for all of you too! Here’s a letter that you can use to express how you feel. See, I’m gonna help you and give you a little gift.

To whom it may concern: (Just insert whoever the hell you want in here)

I’m never going to be perfect. But I’ve got a pretty perfectly imperfect heart and it’s got lots of love to offer. It’s the unconditional kind.  But sometimes it’s messy and sometimes it’s quiet. It’s sometimes overwhelmed and sometimes scared of it’s own shadow. Sometimes even angry just to throw another somethin’ somethin’ to keep you on your toes. I repeat…   I’m never going to be perfect. Which is good, that means you’ll never be bored. And sometimes I’ll say the wrong thing because this mouth of mine is just as imperfect as the rest of me. But it’s me and I’m not sorry for it. I’m a take me as I am or leave me the hell alone kind of (chick/dude…you can print it out and circle the proper gender if you want). In turn, I’ll accept you just the way you are… as long as you are respectful of my imperfections.

Respectfully and with love,

(Jill or Joe Schmo)

You can feel free to use this little ditty. The trick here, though, is that you have to be accepting of other’s imperfections.  Sometimes, we all forget that.  Sometimes, I forget that. (Because we aren’t perfect for crying out loud!!!)

So please…give me your messy, your imperfect…your real. Because everything else is crap and it’s boring as hell.

Until next time,

DP Babbles

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