I’m not sure I want to write this post.
You see, the thing is – my children have issues.
Here’s the other thing – I do, too.
I think somewhere deep down in my “recovering-perfectionistic” subconscious, I really believed that if I just worked incredibly hard and was good enough, my little people would end up…. perfect.
Well, not really perfect, because I know that’s not possible. But I thought they’d be pretty close.
And you know what? I liked that thought! Because “close to perfect” children would make my life easier. And because others would think I’m a good mother.
But I’m slowly beginning to accept, once again, that there’s no such thing as perfection.
Learning to accept that no matter how hard I try, my children will still leave my home with issues to work on, personality quirks, and areas to improve. This is called being human.
And as the dawn of this realization slowly crosses my mind’s horizon, it brings with it new freedoms:
The freedom to enjoy my children – even with their idiosyncrasies.
The freedom to not have to “fix” everything – in my children or myself.
The freedom to make mistakes – knowing I can ask for and receive forgiveness when I screw up.
The freedom to do my best – and accept that my best won’t always be good enough.
The freedom to love unconditionally – in spite of the “results.”
And the freedom to truly be myself – imperfect, but still on the journey.
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