Handle with Care

I’ve sort of always had this impossible image set for myself.

One of the perfect friend who always remembers everyone’s birthday, how they take their coffee, always has something perfect on hand to say to celebrate or soothe and can always be counted on to come through for every imaginable situation.

One of a perfect mother who never gets frustrated with her children, who always has fun activities planned to further their education and creativity, who above all else puts their needs and wants ahead of my own.

One of a perfect wife who always cooks scrumptious meals in perfect timing, who keeps a clean and organized house, who is always ready and willing to support my husband in whatever way he may need.

One of a perfect daughter who is always grateful for her parents teachings and sacrifices, one who is always available for their need or want and one who is always willing to return those sacrifices.

One of a perfect citizen who is always informed and prepared to act on my civic duty, one who contributes whatever wealth I may have to those who have none and one who is constantly aware of my personal responsibility to my fellow human beings.

And I think my biggest self doubt comes from the fact that I’m very few of these things. I yell at my kids daily. I haven’t vacuumed for two weeks. I can’t remember the last time I watched the news. I hardly ever say thank you to my parents outside of cheesy greeting cards for one holiday or another. The list could go on and on, and it does most days. I reel through countless ways in which I do not live up to these images I’ve set for myself.

But I suppose one of the things I’m trying to learn is how to reconcile my need for my own personal perfection with the restraints of every life. In short, I’m trying to learn how to give myself a pass. Hoping not to let myself totally off the hook to pick up a life of mediocrity, but instead to handle myself with as much care as I want to handle others.

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