"Fall in love with taking care of yourself"
Perfection. Such a simple word with a heady presence. Perfection in today's society can be viewed from a variety of different ways. Women are seen to be perfect when they have flawless bodies; smooth skin, an hour glass figure, a full pout, luxurious, hair that is flowing down her shoulders, a sexy laugh. Men are perfect when they provide for their families, have full six-pack abs, sharp jaw lines, and relaxed smiles. Families are perceived to be perfect when they have exactly 2.5 children, a white picket fence, parents who are married, work white-collar jobs that provide for one family vacation per year, and send out picture-perfect Christmas cards. But who decides these definitions? Who tells us to be perfect? When do we get forced into lifestyles that match up with the Joneses next door?
Perfection is a societal ideal that is forced upon each and everyone of us from a young age. We have parents who failed at the ideal and jolt us into lifestyles that they missed out on. Magazines show us pictures of who we should be and how we should act and talk to get there. And entertainment perpetuates lyrics and dialogues that show unrealistic expectations of what our careers, personalities, and bodies should look like. Perfection is truly an illusion.
But, somewhere along the line I fell for it...hook, line and sinker.
In school, I had to be the best I can be. An an undergraduate I took two courses at a time to finish my degree by a deadline set forth by my work place. I worked late nights (and early mornings) reading and writing extensive papers. I went above participation requirements and I cried when my grades were less than an A-. And do you know what people said when I earned my high grades, my President's list standing, and my degree in less than two years? They gave me the highest praise. They said, "Wow! I want to be like you when I grow up" or "I don't know how you do it! You are super woman" or "Jen, you are always so perfect and good at the school thing". And while their intentions meant well, it reinforced this perfection ideal. I felt the need to continue to be the BEST ME I COULD BE! And I killed myself for it.
I was perpetually exhausted. I was on edge trying to complete assignments. I cried when I was one minute late handing a paper into a professor. I literally found it impossible to relax when I had no school work due; I was antsy and I struggled to find purpose with "free time". I was slowly burning myself raw; mentally and emotionally I was exhausted to live up to the ideal of a perfect student.
But, I sought perfection in all aspects of my life. As a mom, I had to fill my children's days with countless activities; after dinner I made sure to coach my daughter on all her assignments and did further research just so I could teach it like they do at school. I planned game nights and weekend excursions and taught my son even though he wasn't in school. I pushed myself to be super mom. I know much of these are "normal" aspects of being a mom, but I honestly took it to the extreme. As a wife, I had a strict cleaning schedule to the point that I was frantic if people came over; I would clean tables that had hardly any crumbs, I would vacuum floors that had been cleaned the day before, and I would change tablecloths that were fresh. I planned family meals perfectly and rotated them so we weren't eating the same foods each week.
Again, I was constantly pushing myself to fulfill this unrealistic expectation of being a perfect mom, of being a perfect wife, of being a perfect person. I lived in a constant state of scheduled actions and planned experiences so everyone would never want for anything. These ideals were placed in my head, not by my husband or my family or society to the fullest extent, I perpetuated them myself. I somehow got this idea in my head that perfection was the only state to achieve and I had to push myself until everything fit to this mold that I created.
Until I pushed myself too far. Until I reached the point where I could barely get together with friends. Until I reached the point where I took whole semesters off from school because I couldn't concentrate on the words on a screen. Until I reached the point where I came home from work and sat on the couch and barely did anything else. Until I reached the point where I was either sad or anxious or uncomfortable because I wasn't able to achieve my ideals of "perfection". Until I reached the point where I questioned who I had become.
Although I always had these ideals, it was this past year where I pushed myself the hardest to mask the feelings that I didn't want anyone else to see. Which is a discussion for another time....
But I had finally reached this point where I was tired of the scheduling, where I was exhausted from being "on" all the time, and where I just wanted to "find myself", as cliche as that might sound.
Perfection is a societal ideal that is forced upon each and everyone of us from a young age. We have parents who failed at the ideal and jolt us into lifestyles that they missed out on. Magazines show us pictures of who we should be and how we should act and talk to get there. And entertainment perpetuates lyrics and dialogues that show unrealistic expectations of what our careers, personalities, and bodies should look like. Perfection is truly an illusion.
But, somewhere along the line I fell for it...hook, line and sinker.
In school, I had to be the best I can be. An an undergraduate I took two courses at a time to finish my degree by a deadline set forth by my work place. I worked late nights (and early mornings) reading and writing extensive papers. I went above participation requirements and I cried when my grades were less than an A-. And do you know what people said when I earned my high grades, my President's list standing, and my degree in less than two years? They gave me the highest praise. They said, "Wow! I want to be like you when I grow up" or "I don't know how you do it! You are super woman" or "Jen, you are always so perfect and good at the school thing". And while their intentions meant well, it reinforced this perfection ideal. I felt the need to continue to be the BEST ME I COULD BE! And I killed myself for it.
I was perpetually exhausted. I was on edge trying to complete assignments. I cried when I was one minute late handing a paper into a professor. I literally found it impossible to relax when I had no school work due; I was antsy and I struggled to find purpose with "free time". I was slowly burning myself raw; mentally and emotionally I was exhausted to live up to the ideal of a perfect student.
But, I sought perfection in all aspects of my life. As a mom, I had to fill my children's days with countless activities; after dinner I made sure to coach my daughter on all her assignments and did further research just so I could teach it like they do at school. I planned game nights and weekend excursions and taught my son even though he wasn't in school. I pushed myself to be super mom. I know much of these are "normal" aspects of being a mom, but I honestly took it to the extreme. As a wife, I had a strict cleaning schedule to the point that I was frantic if people came over; I would clean tables that had hardly any crumbs, I would vacuum floors that had been cleaned the day before, and I would change tablecloths that were fresh. I planned family meals perfectly and rotated them so we weren't eating the same foods each week.
Again, I was constantly pushing myself to fulfill this unrealistic expectation of being a perfect mom, of being a perfect wife, of being a perfect person. I lived in a constant state of scheduled actions and planned experiences so everyone would never want for anything. These ideals were placed in my head, not by my husband or my family or society to the fullest extent, I perpetuated them myself. I somehow got this idea in my head that perfection was the only state to achieve and I had to push myself until everything fit to this mold that I created.
Until I pushed myself too far. Until I reached the point where I could barely get together with friends. Until I reached the point where I took whole semesters off from school because I couldn't concentrate on the words on a screen. Until I reached the point where I came home from work and sat on the couch and barely did anything else. Until I reached the point where I was either sad or anxious or uncomfortable because I wasn't able to achieve my ideals of "perfection". Until I reached the point where I questioned who I had become.
Although I always had these ideals, it was this past year where I pushed myself the hardest to mask the feelings that I didn't want anyone else to see. Which is a discussion for another time....
But I had finally reached this point where I was tired of the scheduling, where I was exhausted from being "on" all the time, and where I just wanted to "find myself", as cliche as that might sound.
"Be purposeful and unapologetic about refueling your oil. You light cannot shine if your lamp is empty."
So, I did some research and I began therapy. I wanted desperately to make this sense of perfection fade away and to escape the overwhelming emotions that I felt all the time. And the first thing I learned was the importance of self-care.
Self-care is a concept that I clearly forgot about in my quest for perfection. I was so busy taking care of other people and trying to fit this ideal mold of who I should be, that I forgot how important it was to take care of myself. I forgot that I cannot help my children, I cannot teach my students, I cannot manage a household, and I cannot be a friend if I cannot learn to value the importance of myself. I had to remind myself that I am also a valuable aspect of my life and I deserve to be taken care of.
My journey to self-care was a difficult one though. How do I become different than this image I spent so long building? How do I get beyond the guilt I feel for taking time to take care of myself? How do I get beyond multi-tasking and take time to just breathe?
The answer is, I am still struggling with this task. I am still finding my own acceptance of realizing taking time for me is okay. I am beginning small though.
I started with just taking the time to paint my nails each week with no distractions. Then I added on doing a face mask for 5 to 10 minutes in the shower uninterrupted. Then I made a plan. I am not sure how often I am going to hold myself accountable to this plan, but I do know that I am going to try. Because I realize how important it is for me to refuel. To take time to become a more focused me by recharging my batteries for 10 minutes each day (or more if I can). Because I cannot be perfect. No one can. No one should strive for that.
What I can strive for is to find balance. A balance between the roles that I value and a balance between caring for myself without overwhelming guilt.
"If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete." - Jack Kornfield
