Soft Around the Edges

I'm a perfectionist who once thought in extremes - either this or that. I didn't used to give myself or anything around me a break, 'Why would I? Things can always be better', I used to think. Back then, I was nice on the outside (never said a mean thing to friends, said what I thought people wanted to hear, agreeable, friendly, nice) but tough on the inside (mostly to myself-judgmental, always expected more, did things to the nth degree, never gave myself a break).

When I got MS, I felt very sad to know that all I could do was sit-sit and realize everything I wanted to do but couldn't. I had to let others help me, and as a result felt their love. I let others do my things, and as a result saw their ability. Letting others into my life has made me soft around the edges (instead of rigid and stiff like I used to be).

I've experienced many hard things but from them have come many blessings. Five years later, I can look back at my trial and see the good. I'll always be a perfectionist - someone who strives for the best - the good news is that I've learned many things that have made me a good perfectionist. My trial, although hard, has given me many benefits.

Does It Really Matter?

Every year (for the past few years) I've written a letter to "my girls". The girls who were Laurels (16-17) when I was Young Women's President. I've never forgotten about them and the joy they brought into my life. They are 22 or older now. Most are married and some have kids. Whatever they are doing is great.

In my opinion, you're never too old to hear an encouraging word. It's true that when a girl leaves the YW program she is welcomed into Relief Society and watched over by them (truly, a person in my church is never alone), but the fact is that all of my girls aren't going to stay in my church. Whatever they do, I want them to know that I love them.

As much as I want my life to be perfect, it isn't. It's a fact that life makes people face hard things. (Hopefully, those hard things make them stronger, but nobody likes or wishes for them.) It's a fact also that people face good things; things that bring joy and happiness.

What I want to point out is that when I don't see the good I miss out on the good things.

Last night I told Per that every time I walk into the guest bathroom I see the Christmas decoration that's in there and my attention is drawn to the antler that is broken on one of the reindeer. There are many good things about that decoration but I look at the one flaw. He said, "I've looked at that thing many times, and an antler is broken?" Then he told me that every time he goes in that bathroom he looks at the floor that he tiled and notices the chipped tile. I said, "One of the tiles is chipped?" 

How many times do I look at the flaw instead of the masterpiece? Maybe because I'm a perfectionist I notice the flaw when I want perfection. I will always be a perfectionist who wants perfection, but I also know that flaws don't = bad. 

No one wants to acknowledge that sometimes they see flaws. But no one is perfect or positive all the time. (Some things make me mad and I'm not positive about them.) It takes choosing to see the good instead of the bad; I hope to always see the good and I strive for it, but I know that always = someday. Instead, I'll try for as long as I can to see the good.

Grown-up Make Believe

On Facebook, a friend posted an article written by a mom who lives in Utah County (Provo) about opting out as Supermom to instead be more real. Click here to read the article. She talked about how perfect the moms in Utah County seemed, as well as how clean their houses seemed, as well as how well-behaved their kids seemed, and as well as how everything they did seemed to come naturally. That sounds exactly like the former me - I was the Utah Valley Supermom...but I lived in Kansas. (A friend of mine even used to call me "Supermom.") Perhaps women from Utah are not fanatical about perfection, but I was. In high school, I made fun of Suzy Homemaker who got up at six AM and made freshly baked bread for her family, but I became like her in my own way as I attempted perfection in everything I did.

When I lived in Orem, Utah (which is a part of Utah Valley,) my friend said, "Jade, let him do it" when I moved my son's game piece. Many years later, I thought I was controlling, but perhaps I wanted to do it so that it seemed perfect. I agree with the author that it's better and a relief to be real - to just be yourself and to let your family be themselves, too, because real life isn't perfect, sometimes the house is messy, sometimes the kids wear mismatched clothes, and sometimes we eat ramen noodles for dinner. It takes a lot of courage to be "real" - to go against the grain when so many other people pretend. The author called pretending "grown-up make believe" and that is so true.

I didn't want to stand out and do something different; I wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to be one of the millions who all did the same thing. And for years I did - I did what I thought was the typical but, according to the article I read, my pretending to be perfect was the extreme.

Doing My Best vs. The Best

All I can do is my best. I'm not perfect but I do the best I can. I expect the best from myself, not the least. When I make a mistake, all I can do is -admit it, -say I'm sorry, and -try better the next time.

Expecting myself to always be perfect is impossible. I'm human and sooner or later will make a mistake. It's wrong to expect myself, or anyone, to never fail. When I fail, I will learn from my mistakes and have a deeper resolve, but will I also get mad and say things that I don't mean? Do I say mean things possibly because I expect too much?

Another person's best isn't necessarily my best. When they do something, all I can do is say, "Did you do your best?" (I hope they gave it their all, but ultimately the choice to do well belonged to them.) 

I won't think negative things when I, or anyone else, fails, but will have compassion and hope for better things the next time. I heard a person repeatedly say, "Do your best plus a little more." I can always do a little more and improve. I commit to do my best and never say, "No one will ever know" because it's not true - I will know. I will do my best because that's who I am.

Giving Things My All

My Microsoft Word program has a place to indicate spacing as 'At Least' or 'Exactly'. I could indicate either setting when making a document. If the text size would always be the same, I could say 'Exactly.' However, if the text size could fluctuate but I never wanted a line to be less than the spacing indicated, I could say 'At Least.'

I compare my Microsoft Word program to myself. In most things I do, I am exact. I want my food to taste the same every time so I follow recipes and always use the same ingredients. (I only use substitutions if the substitute will be the same or better.) I follow rules or at least try my hardest to do so: I'm not perfect and sometimes break rules, but if someone points out my error, and I agree, I do my best to rectify the situation.

I am exact in everything except painting. The walls in my home, that I've painted, are not painted perfectly. Even though they're imperfect, I think at least there's paint on the walls. I believe the painted walls are 'good enough'. However, I strive for perfection in most things.

My husband and children are perfectionists too. They give 100% to everything they do. They never settle for second best (unless they have no other choice.) And, they never say "Oh well." I appreciate that they do their all. My husband is more of a perfectionist than me. He doesn't accept less than a person's best for anything, but I do. I give people the benefit of the doubt whereas he thinks they could always do better.

We are nice but I believe intimidating. I think people are intimidated by us because we want everyone to try and to do their best. I believe that most people won't try new things because of fear. They are afraid they'll fail. They fear looking stupid too so they won't even try. (If they never try, they'll always be the same.) I estimate that they'll probably fail and look stupid the first time they try, but I firmly believe they need to do it anyway. An improved person never becomes more without failing and looking stupid along the way: the important thing to focus on is the end result not what it takes to get there.

It's hard for me to accept less than perfection now that I'm sick. I would do my hair better, and wear cuter clothes and shoes, and put labels and stamps straight on envelopes if I could, but I'm doing the best I can.

To me, accepting my limitations and saying "Oh well" are not the same thing. I may accept what I can do but it doesn't mean I like it. I push myself to do my best no matter my limitations. If I said "Oh well" I would give up and not care to even try.

Being Real

There's something to be said about being authentic and saying, "What you see is what you get." I've become that way since being sick and think I'm truly myself. Before I got sick I tried to keep up appearances. After getting sick I dropped the expectations I had for myself and thought, This is me, take it or leave it.

I thought I knew how other people behaved but I didn't. After getting sick, I saw that a lot of people wanted me to think they had it together when they didn't. They appeared perfect but I knew of perfection as an impossible achievement in this lifetime, and recognized that sooner or later everyone fell short. I wanted people to know this too, and to be their real selves. 

Perfection can never be fully achieved in this lifetime, but it's not okay to say, "I'll never be perfect so why try?" For some reason and for years, I expected perfection from myself. For example, I thought I should play the piano perfectly. My unrealistic expectations said, "If I can't then why try?" I got down on myself for my imperfect playing and chose to see only my faults; I only saw what I lacked. Eventually, I got so fed up with my imperfect playing that I didn't touch the piano for months.

I consider my piano example dramatic and rigid. Back then, I thought of life as black and white, this or that - no in-between. Since being sick I realize that instead of appearing perfect it's more beneficial to work on becoming the best person possible. (If I am good at something, I aim to be even better. If I don't have a certain quality and I want it I try my best to get it.)  I know now that it's only helpful to compare my progress to my previous self. I truly believe that progression is the important thing, not perfection.

I can see how when a person acts perfect, they could become too proud to admit the false identity. It's not bad to say, "I fall short." In fact, it's humble to admit weakness and inspiring to say, "but I'll try harder."

I wonder how a person could ever ask God to help them when they think they have nothing needing improvement. If they say, "I'm weak, I can't do it on my own, please help me" I think God will help them because of their humble and sincere plea. I know that God will help a person who takes the action to ask for help while they attempt to change. I believe that God wants people to do something instead of just wish.

Some people say that their neighbor thinks they're perfect. If they're right then it's sad because it's not true. The neighbor may APPEAR perfect, but usually what a person appears to be vs. who they are doesn't match.

I am convinced that actions speak louder than words. It's one thing for someone to say, "I want that" but another thing for them to work to get it. I love the saying, "I cannot hear what you say because who you are rings so loudly in my ears." I want people to be who they are in their hearts so that I can trust them.