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.

Then and Now

I’m transcribing a document for Per and the process has taken weeks because of slowness and fatigue. I used to type really fast; so fast, in fact, that I thought in words instead of letters. One of the things I experience because of MS is that my right hand is slow and inaccurate. To use an analogy, I used to be a rabbit and now I’m a turtle.

Slowness isn’t the only thing I experience – I get tired too. Once I did many things, but now I do one thing before feeling extremely tired.  I work on the document then stop after a short time because of fatigue. For the rest of the day I sit in my living room chair because I feel too tired to do anything more.

After getting sick I lamented about my lost abilities. One day I realized that lamenting just made me feel bad and caused me to live in the past. (In my heart I want to be a fast typist like before, and wish I could do many things, but I can't and that's realistic.) Accepting what I can do now causes me to live in the present moment (even though I remember what I once could do.)

Now to be philosophical: We can do many things at a young age, but when we get older we wish we could do the things we once could. (I think excessively wishing this causes mid-life crises.) We’d be better off to accept the current reality and let the past remain in the past. When we accept the current reality, we don't give in or giving up or say “Why try?" but “I'll do my best with what I can do right now.”

I want to remember the positive and hopeful feelings I have when I think of what I can do and not what I can’t.

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.