I’m Giving Up on Perfect.

So, I have a problem.

This problem is called “I like for everything to be perfect, and when things aren’t perfect, it drives me crazy.”

This problem makes me frustrated.

This problem makes me feel weak and powerless.

This problem makes me straight-up ANGRY sometimes.

But this problem also has a pretty simple solution:

Give up on perfection.

Give up, huh?

I think this is the only time you’ll hear me say that the answer to a problem is to just “give up.”

Usually I’ll be like, “FIGHT IT! WORK HARDER! DO THE THING!”

But in this case, it’s a losing battle. Why? Because

perfection. doesn’t. exist.

I don’t care how pretty your face is, or how many chaise lounges you have, or how well your 8 week-old can sleep through the night – hell, I don’t even care if your boss pays you seven figures to sit around all day watching Keeping Up with the Kardashians while scratching your butt –

Your life isn’t perfect.

And mine DEFINITELY isn’t perfect.

But guess what?

That’s okay.

It’s okay to be imperfect.

It’s okay to be super-duper a million miles away from perfect.

Like, if “perfect” is the sun, it’s okay to be Pluto (and we all know Pluto isn’t perfect because HELLO it’s not even a PLANET anymore).

I’m learning to be okay with this.

I’m looking around at my piles of laundry and my non-HGTV-looking bedroom and my sweet baby girl who sometimes spits up all over me (yum), and I’m feeling okay about it.

Last week, I had a revelation about myself.

I realized that I have a certain personality quirk (*ahem* don’t we all?). This certain personality quirk involves me wanting things to be done a certain way, and getting really frustrated when other people do these things incorrectly differently.

Here’s what this scenario leads to: me doing everything, even when it makes me mad and frustrated, just because I know I’ll do them right MY way.

So, raise a glass to imperfection.

And when that champagne spills on your brand new blouse, and you *clink* your glass against someone else’s and they both shatter and glass flies everywhere and suddenly the room is a hot sharp bubbly mess,

laugh.

Because life. isn’t. perfect.