One day I was talking with a friend about the stresses and strains of living up to a multitude of expectations, both those put on us by others (friends, family, society) but even more so, the ones we put on ourselves. It was something I’d been wrestling with for some time. I mentioned to my friend that I had an idea for a blog, that I’d even purchased a domain name over a year prior to the conversation, but that I hadn’t gotten started yet. I wasn’t sure what to say, I couldn’t find a theme I liked and didn’t have the time to create my own, and besides, what made me think anyone would care what I thought or had to say about anything.
My friend looked at me and said, “That is what you’re first post should be about.”
And she was right. Because my desire to create the perfect blog about my journey towards overcoming debilitating perfectionism was being strangled by my debilitating perfectionism.
That conversation took place almost four years ago.
A lot has happened since then. I’ve gotten divorced, moved to a new state, gone back to work and then quit that to go back to school. I reentered the dating pool 25 years older and 50 pounds heavier that my last time around. My mother passed away and so did my brother. I met a wonderful man and fell in love. I’ve done a lot of soul searching. I’ve made mistakes but I’ve also gained a lot of confidence.
So here I am, finally stepping off the curb. I’ve deliberately chosen the most plain theme I could find to start and I’m going to force myself to post this without agonizing over every word. Because I’m not perfect, and that’s ok.