I have spent my whole life, it seems, trying to be perfect. The perfect daughter, perfect mother, perfect friend, perfect wife - not to mention keeping a perfect house. I was raised to always do my best, with the understanding that my best was perfect, therefore anything less meant I hadn’t done a proper job. Of course, no one demanded perfect in my household but me. Still, I have a hard time letting it go. I can’t help it. I think it is my job, somehow, to make the world orderly and clean.
I don’t want to believe in perfect anymore. I think it is a good time to shed the shell of perfection and grow a newer, more flexible one to carry me through the second half of my life.
Amen Julie! Let's do that together....
ReplyDeleteRight on friend! Come over and hang out in my not perfect house anytime!
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully said... Describes my emotions to a "T"..... I LOVE this!
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