I’d be lying if I said that past few months have been easy. Becoming a Mom is rough sh*t. And I’ve found myself from time to time putting so much pressure on myself to be perfect.
To be the perfect Mom
To be the perfect Wife
To have the perfect Life
To have the perfect Body
It can be all consuming. But luckily, I’ve done enough personal work and have visited this place of perfection (you’ll read about one particularly low point below) enough that I know how to deal with it.
I’m so happy to give you today’s Throwback Thursday because it touches on this topic that so many of us struggle with. If it’s anything I’ve learned, perfection is not all it’s cracked up to be. You’ll see what I mean:
Today, I want to give you a window into my personal life that I’m pretty embarrassed to reveal.
My reflection scowled at me with disgust as I was getting dressed.
I felt so fat.
My inner bitch came out with guns blazing. She told me that feeling fat was the unacceptable flaw that could ruin everything: my business, my relationship, my beauty. Toast. What would I have if I lost the one thing I had worked so hard at getting? A body I loved.
I was a puddle of grief, embarrassment and panic.
Luckily, my higher self (aka soul, intuition, inner light), the part of me that helped me heal from emotional eating in the first place, was able to talk some sense into my inner bitch relatively quickly.
She reminded her that weight gain is a sign that something is out of balance, that an emotion, a need, a void, requires tending to and nourishment. There was something to learn in all of this. I reminded myself that weight is just a big red flashing sign that something is seriously wrong. It was the arrow pointing to where I needed to focus more energy.
So I’ve spent the past month being curious about the lessons my body was teaching me, trying so hard not to cancel all social activities and go on a juice cleanse, because just getting rid of the “fat symptom” feels like the easiest thing sometimes, even for me, and I teach this stuff.
But my higher self knew there was a lot to learn from the discomfort and rushing to get out of it was only going to send me right back to feeling like shit.
So I sat and let myself feel fat for several days. It was incredibly uncomfortable. I hated it, but honestly, it turned out to be an amazing process
Here’s what I learned:
Our definition of perfection is masculine. We define perfection as linear. Our goal is to go in one direction towards a specific end point and when we reach it, we strive to stay there.
Masculine perfection is unwavering, stiff and permanent… I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a penis, so that’s not gonna work for me.
The feminine version of perfection is ebb and flow, expand and contract, wild, and unpredictable. Think of the ocean, tides, puberty, pregnancy, giving birth … always expanding and contracting, rising and falling. An exhilarating roller coaster.
Perfection is not about straightening out the roller coaster, it’s about strapping in and knowing that’s it’s going to be a wild ride. Ups and downs, dizziness, nausea. But when you expect it, it’s not so maddening, in fact, it can be really fun.
There’s nothing imperfect about gaining a little weight, or maybe not losing enough. It’s part of the ride. And the key to healing is forgiveness, love, learning from the falls and knowing how to start moving (slowly) back to where we know we feel our best.
Your task for the week is to accept your “imperfections” as normal, and still hold a vision for your ideal.
I can tell you from experience, that adopting the ebb and flow as perfect is incredibly healing. As I became more comfortable with the uncomfortable, looked for the lessons and continued to engage in my amazing life without rushing into a diet, my body responded lovingly by letting go of the weight that no longer served her.