accepting imperfection
Healing is work; imperfect work
I was in denial about being a perfectionist for a really long time.
I knew the tone people had when they spoke of perfectionists was not a tone I liked. I didn’t want to be called a perfectionist, I just wanted to be perfect and I needed it to appear effortless.
You see, like so many, I too, have some messed up brain wiring that tells me I’ll only be loved, or safe, or wanted, or worth anything at all as long as I’m perfect.
I’ll smile at the right time and crack the joke that will ensure everyone gets a good laugh - often at my own expense. My make-up will be perfectly set and my hair will only ever be in a messy bun on a Friday. I’ll get straight A’s in school and be praised for going ‘above and beyond’ at work, but never quite achieve the coveted “Exceeds Expectations” rating.
And for all this time, through all these years, I still haven’t achieved the ultimate goal…
perfection
Even going to therapy was a part of the ‘perfect’ image I was creating for myself. See, if I’m working on the things and I’m doing the healing, then I’m slowly scratching away at the goal and I know - I just know it y’all - I’m gonna finally get to that ‘perfect’ state one day.
Everything I’ve been doing to achieve perfection seems to be going so well until one day, I lose my temper because Granny McGranny is going 15 miles under the speed limit and the tourist traffic up here is flooding the opposite lane so I can’t even pass her.
And then begins the shame spiral.
That kind of frustration just isn’t acceptable.
Hey, we’re focused on patience as the word of the year, remember?
Where is your compassion, huh?
No one will ever know that I was sassy-pants about Granny on my way to work because no one else was in the car with me. Yet somehow, I believe deep into the marrow of my bones that every person I see later that day will intrinsically know that I am nothing but a complete and total failure.
Last summer, I jumped back into regular therapy. After I had finished some pretty extensive work for the first couple years, I felt like I had completed therapy. While also acknowledging that life gets messy sometimes and there will always be things I can work on, I ‘finished’ therapy thinking I had all the tools I needed to move forward.
I did have those tools and they worked for a while. And then there was this small, little, tiny hiccup called; COVID-19.
Woof - that level of uncertainty and what the future would hold was a lot. I hopped back into my therapist's inbox with a, “Oh hey - any chance you’ve got any openings?” and was off to the races figuring out what my insides were all a fuss over.
I remember sitting on our guest bed during one of those sessions during that season of life and we had discussed how healing can be a lonely road sometimes*. And adding the isolation of a pandemic really doesn’t help that loneliness. I recall responding to her with, “Well, I think I may just need to sit with that for a while.” Shortly after that session, I emailed her to cancel the upcoming sessions, determined to ‘sit with’ my loneliness.
I changed jobs 3 times and had some sessions here and there, but never anything more than one or two. And then last spring I landed in a pretty scary & dark place. Any healthy behaviors and coping mechanisms I had in place were LONG gone. I wasn’t getting enough water each day, eating terribly, working myself to exhaustion, awake most of the night with a racing mind I couldn’t control and feeling completely overextended. (Because of course I continued saying yes to all the things despite knowing deep down I should be saying no.)
It’s outrageous that I was spending so much time trying to convince the world and everyone around me that I was okay. Trying to be someone I’m not took so much energy and time and left me a hollowed out husk of a human.
I was experiencing physical symptoms, primarily issues with my menstrual cycle but refused to acknowledge that it could be related to my mental health.
“Do you think it could be trauma?” - Caring friend
“Absolutely not. I already did the work on my past traumas.” - Ignorant me
With the support of my amazing partner and husband, I took a short break between workplaces and I was in my therapist’s inbox yet again. I was scheduled to meet with a psychiatrist on the recommendation of a doctor I had seen for my lady health** and I just knew this time - this time, I’ll heal the ‘right’ way and I’ll be back to ‘perfect’ in no time.
Part of my healing journey over the last year has looked like me clinging to new beliefs I’ve created about myself. Like, “I’m an Earl Grey, and it’s okay if that’s not everyone’s cup of tea.”
Then Taylor Swift released her new Midnights Album in the midst of some deep work and that song lyric; “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me” - well, that was released and blasted through the airwaves at the same time I was realizing that some of my own behaviors are the reason I’m struggling so much!
If I just stop and embrace that I’m a whole-ass human being and I’m going to make mistakes, and I’ve got a loud AF belly laugh that vibrates across an entire room that is sometimes ‘too much’ for other people and sometimes my impatience gets the best of me and my judgmental ass opens my mouth before thinking. (And sometimes I write run-on sentences.)
And in the words of my therapist, “there are no bad parts”.
Except for a long time, like 30+ years, I’ve believed deep in my soul that there ARE bad parts because anything less than perfection equals “bad parts”.
So when I got silly at a company event (visiting other local breweries) and danced my heart out, or when I let my impatience get the best of me and the words just spewed out of my mouth and I had to go back to some folks later and apologize, or when I said yes to things when I really should have said no, these were all moments when I was met with a crossroad;
Revert to the original hardwiring and begin the shame spiral
OR
Remind myself that it’s okay and provide myself compassion
I’ve spent the last 12 months learning new self-soothing techniques to calm my anxiety down in high stress moments and I’ve been focusing on getting my daily water intake on a regular basis. I’ve been using a sleep meditation on a regular basis, especially those nights where my brain wants to think of all the world’s problems and how to solve them. And I’ve started getting out of bed to write out my to-do list at 2am so I can finally just fall back asleep.
I’ve taken intentional mental health walks and asked for space when I knew I needed some. I started being really clear about my expectations with work and drawing lines and boundaries to continue prioritizing myself. I started reading books in the morning when I’d wake up at 5am unable to go back to sleep and I allowed myself to NOT do things I may have previously committed to doing.
And many times throughout the year, I’ve failed at doing any of the above in certain moments, but one thing I’ve continued to come back to is telling myself, “I am safe, I am secure. There is nothing for me to fear.” on repeat while doing deep breathing and rubbing my sternum until I feel better. (It’s weird, but definitely worth trying!)
Before you get excited that I’ve been doing so well, here comes the kicker y’all…
I’ve been doing all of that the last several months under the guise of, “one day”. As in, “One day…
… this will be easy and I won’t have to think about it.”
… I will be the most patient person on the planet and I won’t say the stupid shit that runs through my head.”
… I’ll just have a full system and structure that ensures I eat within the food pyramid and get my 64oz of water without even having to think about it.”
… I’ll freely say no to things that don’t spark joy.”
… I’ll have ‘solved’ all my problems.”
I’ve spent many moments of those months thinking I must be ‘doing it wrong’ because it is still so. much. work. Wasting so much time being pissed off thinking I’m far more broken than I expected because this hasn’t gotten any easier yet. Annoyed that everyone else seems to manage through the same things with ease and I’m still over here thinking, “Don’t forget to eat something green at some point this week.” [Insert exhausted emoji and an eye roll emoji here]
Last week, as I took a deep breath and worked to calm down some rampant anxious thoughts in my brain, I had a moment. It just… clicked. All those cliches about “progress over perfection.” Or, the Miley Cyrus lyric;
“Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb”
They all just - made sense. I’m never going to achieve perfection and it WILL always be work. “One day” is never going to come the way I’m expecting it to.
A Venn diagram of experiences formulated in my mind and I realized the work I’ve been putting in and the new beliefs I’ve been fostering about myself ARE paying off AND I’ll never achieve perfection.
There, in the center of these new mantras or song lyrics or beliefs I’m creating and using to show up and try to be a better human being each day, I find the point. I’ll never get it perfect and neither will anyone else. As long as I can show up and have compassion for myself and others, and hope they can also have compassion for me too - then I’d say I’m doing alright.
Yup …
I set out to write a newsletter twice a month and didn’t get anything out for June.
The wildflowers I planted in a raised bed this year really didn’t come out like I expected. It’s a bunch of perennial milkweed and some weird pigweed-like plant.
Only 10 of our squash mounds are actually producing plants despite our hopes for 15.
None of our zucchini are gonna happen because they didn’t survive our chilly spring and we forgot to replant them.
The grass didn’t get cut for 3+ weeks in June.
We have a piece of cut up plywood that we’re using to give our baby chicks some extra shade in the chicken run because the older gals are too cliquey and don’t let them in their shaded area. (The chicken pecking order is a real thing, friends.)
And I’m content with this messy and imperfect life. I’ve learned a lot and I continue showing up for myself over and over again and when I find there are moments I’m not so thrilled with myself, I opt for new internal dialogue like;
“Yeaaaahhhh… I didn’t really like how I showed up that day when I was exhausted and just let all my thoughts run out of my mouth without thinking first. And that’s okay, we’ll keep working on it.”
“I am safe. I am secure. There is nothing for me to fear.”
“Welp, I guess it’s Messy Bun Monday again.”
“Well, that sure didn’t turn out how I expected or promised it would. But it’s the best I’ve got to offer so it’s going to work and everything will be okay.”
If you’re struggling with the idea of ‘keeping up with the Jones’, I get it friend, I really do. You’re not alone and the journey isn’t always easy, but I promise it’s worth it. After all, Miley knows what she’s singing about.
Such a good and needed reminder ♥️♥️ thanks for this piece!!