I wanted to share this trail of thoughts with those who would like to read them as you will be the people that this resonates with. I hope it helps to know you're not alone and acts as a reminder to not let those arsehole-ideals drown you any longer. You know the ones.
The unturn-off-able worry switch. Familiar?!
“What if…”, “I’m failing here...and here”, “I really should be a better partner/friend/colleague” bla bla bla. Oh, it's too repetitive and tedious but who else falls into this trap only too frequently?
Who else has fallen into resigning ourselves to the fact that we will always be worrying about something - it’s just who we are (and probably who our mothers are too). So, given it’s our destiny and genetic disposition, lets accept it, find ways to ignore it and focus elsewhere.
True?
Hmm…
I‘ve been investing in this quite heavily recently, until a dear friend gently took my (virtual) hand and empathised that the only reason we feel so overwhelmed in this way is because of our insistent desire for our lives to be perfect: perfect in how we are and what we do, for our family, for our friends, for approval (be honest!) We so desperately want to make it all perfect; after all, if it’s not, what’s the point?
Of course, this is not a new concept, but it was a lightbulb moment for me; perhaps more so as I do not consider myself to be a perfectionist. In fact, I would describe myself as being quite lazy, doing enough to get by, to pass the exam, to make it edible: that’ll do. Now I can play. My point is, these little said-arseholes of subliminal false-beliefs, in this case ‘I need to do everything perfectly or I’ll be pointless (fill in the blank)’ can creep up even more undetected, as we’re not expecting them.
My dear friend pointed out that I need to remember self-care. Argh - another vomit-worthy cliché, another area of self-guilt. Rod off. You’ve clearly got too much time on your hands.
But, as I was pulled into perspective, I reminded myself it does not have to be a weekend of holistic retreat in the Seychelles (can you imagine?), nor does it have to be a perfect weekend away from children/the daily routine. (Both obviously enticing but impossible in the current state of world-weirdness). No, these are not the only ways to take time out. In my energised moment, I simply dropped the washing mid-way to the machine, put the ‘create a perfect bathroom’ catalogue on the fire and I hugged my dog, who I knew would poo on the floor that night as I had ‘failed’ to take him out that day. I left it all; I had a bubble bath, opened a new (trashy) book and cuddled my 5 year old until we fell asleep. The house was a mess, the renovations abandoned, and for the first time in days, I properly smiled. (And the dog crossed his legs till morning. Phew.)
The irony is, I way prefer rough edges. No-one likes an immaculate home (makes me feel a bit sick), or a kid who’s done extra homework (pipe down, pushy mums) or a 2 year old who can’t play on their own.
Women, mothers and men who get this, let’s ditch the ‘perfect’ dream. DITCH it.
I salute you, and your rough edges. I actively love them.