So, um, yeah….my last post detailed the rocky relationship between my deep desire to write and the struggle over what I would / could /should write about. Some of you astute readers may have caught the lapse that rats me out: my epiphany to write again came a few months ago (June to be exact,) and here I am launching in
October November. I burnt out….before I even launched. I was frustrated because I put so much pressure on this blog. The initial mission was to lift up everyone who read my words with every single post, yet here I was doing the very thing I was trying not to do. Write perfect words about being imperfect. Gak.
“Oh, hey there again, Pressure. We HAVE to stop meeting like this.” There’s too much pressure to be perfect. It’s everywhere. It’s on me and it’s on you: As parents, as children, as friends, as significant others, as employees, as bosses, as people.
Well, you’re not going to find it here, folks. No perfect people wanted. You want to read about how to become a millionaire, lose 100 pounds, extreme coupon, or grow a great garden, then please read elsewhere. You want to read about my messy house, how I cry in front of my 13-year old and she has to comfort me, how I only know how to make meatloaf and vegetable soup, how being a business owner is hard, not glamorous, how grateful I am that I even have friends, how I never write a store list and am envious of people who are that organized, how I love to work out because it makes me feel strong and powerful, but why don’t I feel like working out today, how much I love to laugh and cry and wonder and dream, well then you’re in the right place. I’m not perfect…I’m human being. What a huge relief that is. I am over the moon excited to be perfectly imperfect.