Parenthood brings forth a lot of growth and self-awareness. Actually, parenthood can make you feel nothing like yourself, but amazingly self-aware, for perhaps, the first time ever. I think much of life prior to having kids is viewing yourself the way you want to be; who you want to be. For the longest time, I wanted to be everything to everyone. I wanted to be the person who could help any friend, or stranger for that matter, in need. I wanted to be the perfect employee, student, wife, Christian, friend…just fill in the blank and I wanted to not only be it, but be the perfect version of it. In my 20s, after I graduated from college and started my career, I was able to reach some level of attainability for those goals. Not perfection, but close enough for my comfort. Now, enter my 30s. I am still an employee, wife, Christian, friend, but also a mom. A mom of three small children. I am not perfect. I am no where near perfect. In fact, I have possibly never been further away from perfect than this point in my life right now.
You know what though? It’s okay. It’s just not my season to be perfect.
Going from want-to-be perfectionist to being okay with this not being my season to be perfect was not an easy journey. Or I should say, it’s not an easy journey (note the present tense). I am actively on that journey each day. Every time a Sign-Up Genius link comes out from my son’s school, I want to tackle the hardest job on there so I can be a helper and a leader. When someone is sick at my church or has a baby I want to sign-up to take them the most wonderful meal to warm their hearts. When Halloween rolls around, I want to make my children all the most caring costumes they will cherish memories of for years to come. I want to navigate my job each day with intelligence and grace and come home each night to make a perfectly healthy, well-balanced meal while helping with homework, cleaning the house and doing two loads of laundry simultaneously. Oh, and be ridiculously fit and perfectly groomed while doing so too. Let’s not forget that.
Each day I remind myself this is not my season for perfect. However, it is my season for a lot of other things.
It is my season for toddler cuddles and loose teeth. For receiving the grace and support of the woman at church with older children who knows what I am going through and reminds me we will all make it through. It’s my season to see the joy on my kids’ faces as we pick out store-bought costumes together for Halloween that make each of them feel so special, and to have my coworkers support me just as I have supported them. It’s my season to wear leggings and a loose-fitting top with my hair in a topknot and still have my husband tell me I am beautiful and we will make it through good times and bad.
The journey to being okay with not being my season for perfect started by looking at the season I am in. It may not be my season for perfect, but this season I am in? It’s a good season.
Maybe the season for perfect will come back again some day?
Maybe it won’t?
Regardless, something tells me I will be okay.