I struggle every damn day with an uncontrollable urge to be perfect.
I challenge myself to be perfect in every area of my life.
I want to be: The perfect Mom. The perfect Daughter. The perfect Lover. The perfect Friend. The perfect Marketing Director. The perfect Me for Me.
But twice this week I’ve been reminded of how silly – AND HARMFUL – it is to invest so much time and energy on my obsessive thoughts about perfection.
Yesterday it was when I was in hot yoga class and found myself falling out of a few standing poses I normally rock the shit out of.
When I began to mentally berate myself while angrily gazing at my reflection in the studio’s mirror, my yoga teacher commented to the class on how she’d bean leaning to the left in each pose that day.
“Even I’m not perfect,” she exclaimed with a smile.
If this woman who has been teaching yoga for years could accept a less than perfect pose – why the hell was I beating myself up when I’ve only been doing yoga for a few weeks?
Because I am way too fucking hard on myself, that’s why. I am my own worst enemy. And while I am quick to put other less than perfect people up on a pedestal and honor them like a God, I’ve never put myself up on one.
That’s pretty freaking sad because I’m incredibly amazing and I should really put myself on one someday soon.
Another reminder to stop being an asshole to myself?
The video below was making the rounds of my Facebook today. If you’re a mother that’s ever doubted yourself – and let’s face it if you’re a mom and you haven’t you’re some kind of fucking cyborg – you need to stop whatever you’re distracted with and watch this video RIGHT NOW.
But make sure you have some tissues handy and no one is around to see your ugly cry.
You needed that reminder today didn’t you? I did too.
Why are we all, and I think this especially goes for women, so damn hard on ourselves?
It’s maddening and depressing.
We quickly forget about all the awesome things WE ARE and instead focus all of our attention on the few things we are not.
At what point in our lives does that happen?
My son is 8. He believes with all of his heart that he is the most awesome person on the planet. And I believe it too.
He is happy to tell the world without the slightest bit of hesitation. I’ve seen him write it in every single assignment he’s ever been given when he is asked to describe himself.
AIDAN IS AWESOME.
And his belief in how awesome he is isn’t pretentious or gloaty. He’s not faking feeling awesome. He just knows he’s awesome and has ZERO doubts about it.
I might declare myself awesome here in a blog post, or even tweet about how fucking brilliant I am – but most days the thoughts swimming around my head are telling me otherwise.
You’re not awesome because you lost your patience with Aidan today.
You’re not awesome because that client wasn’t happy.
You’re not awesome because your last boyfriend wasn’t able to love you.
You’re not awesome because you have cellulite on your thighs.
These are the things I shout at myself in my head, that drown out my praises for all the awesome things I AM.
I want to be more like my son. I want to wholeheartedly believe that I’m awesome again with ZERO doubts.
I’m going to try really hard to stop beating myself up over the next few weeks. And even when I start to beat myself up, I’m going to forgive myself for it – because that’s part of who I am too.
Every time I start to harp on an imperfection or something I am not, I am going to shift my thought to something about myself that I love.
Then maybe one of these days I’ll find myself believing I’m awesome again, without even trying.