Letting Go of Perfect

This happy little magazine appeared my mailbox this week from Hallmark. I love magazines, so I read through it at breakfast the other morning. It had an article about letting go of perfect.

And I thought hmm. Letting go of perfect? That is really a challenge for many of us, myself included. It made me think about how much I have personally grown in the last few years. I am NOT telling you how great I am, because I am your average person, chipping away at life like we all are. But I know that I have made many strides in my life that are significant and sometimes I have to remember not to live by someone else's version of perfect.

What does that means?

It means that I am probably not going to rid of the shy kid I used to be. I don't always feel comfortable using my voice especially for confrontation. Some people tell me I need to speak up and be more assertive. Probably very true. But, if you met me 13 years ago, you would be surprised at my changes. I was a very meek person back then and I didn't make a decision that made me happy, I did whatever made everyone else around me happy. I am a more confident person and I am less afraid of social situations. I am less afraid to say what I need. Less afraid. It's not perfect.

It means that I am moderately pretty. No, I am not trying to dig Thomas (but I could!), but you become secure in the fact that you are who you are. I am not tall. I am not thin. I have crazy weird hair. I have baby juga. I have an affinity for chips and salsa that could probably just be applied to my hips. There are a million people who are just physically beautiful. Not me, but that's alright. And all the physical properties are me, but they don't alone make up who I am. And they aren't perfect, but who the heck cares?

It means that I am not a perfect parent. I get frustrated. I become impatient and have days where I need to hide and write or just zone out on the tv. My kids are not perfect, but what stories would I have if they were? Who would want to be my friend, if I were perfect and so were my kids? No one.

It means that I don't have a lot of money. Teaching isn't about making money, as we all know. We live in a modest house in an okay neighborhood. It's not the best neighborhood and probably not the best school. There are prettier neighborhoods in town and many of my friends have bigger, prettier homes. But they aren't me. I have a 12 year old car that looks like this side of ghetto. That's what I can afford right now. It's not perfect. Of course I want a pool in my big backyard. I want a newer car that fits all my kids' stuff. I want a bigger house. But the truth is, those things don't make a perfect life. They make it better, of course, but they aren't necessary. I have what I need. But I feel apologetic when people visit because my house is just okay. Have to get over that, because it doesn't really matter if someone likes my house or not.

It means that life takes us on different journeys and I have come to accept mine in some ways. Sometimes I don't and I get stuck in a silly rut of needing something perfect. Sometimes, you are just dealt the hand you dealt. You get what you get and you don't get upset.

In many ways, I hope that I am never perfect. How boring would I be then??