Off the pedestal

I've been pretty quiet here lately. It's not that I haven't been writing, I have. Oh, believe me, I have. But a lot of the words that I've found have been too personal, too sensitive for me to share on here. For now, at least. But to those of you who have inquired as to my whereabouts...I'm here. I'm fine. And I love you all for your concern.



A very good friend and I have had several intense and fascinating conversations lately about life, love, faith, and living up to expectations. A topic that comes up frequently in these conversations is the concept of fitting inside a box, or conforming to an aspect of yourself that isn't even who you are, or who you want to be. I understand this tension all too well. It's taken me all of my 33 years to even begin to understand that who I am is ok. That I am not perfect. That I never will be perfect and that this is not only fine, it's how I am (how we ALL are) supposed to be. That we are here to find new experiences and make mistakes and find ways to correct them and learn to forgive others and learn to forgive ourselves. That although self improvement and striving to be the best we can be is incredibly important, self acceptance and striving to love ourselves despite our weaknesses is just as critical.

As long as I can remember, I have had an image of this perfect woman in my head, an image of myself, of who I am "supposed" to be. This imaginary person is the "ideal" me, the perfect version of myself who would magically materialize if I could "just do everything right".

I'm finally able to accept that that person does not exist, and further more, she never WILL exist. No matter how many things I do right, i'm still going to make mistakes, i'm still going to say the wrong things at times, i'm still going to ignore my laundry and eat Lucky Charms for dinner a few nights a week. And all of that is ok, because I am moving, I'm progressing, I have people who love me and people I love right back and most of all, I'm doing the very best I can with what I have.

So I've decided to take down that "ideal" me off the pedestal I've put her on in my head, and knock her around a bit. Hit her over the head with a little perspective, punch her in the gut with some reality. Take out my night-stick of truth and beat her around the face a little bit. Because, in all honesty, it's about time she started trying to keep up with me.

I'm done comparing herself to her, she's not real.

BUT
I'm here. I'm real. I tell the truth. I make waves. I make mistakes. I love. I laugh. I cry. I dance. I sing. I cuddle. I comfort. I help. I heal. I run. I swim. I bike. I create. I enjoy. I LIVE.

I'M HERE!

She's too busy smiling with canned joy at her non-existent children and her imaginary husband to do any of that.

She annoys me. I'm going to knock her off into the weeds as I ride my bike right past her.