Confessions of a Perfectionist

So, Here I am, 26. A daughter, a wife, a mother, and a friend. Still struggling with who I am and what I'm suppose to do with my life. I know who I am to an extent. I know I am a beautiful woman of God. I know who I am in Christ. But who am I? Other than a daughter, a wife, a mother, and a friend? What is it that I'm suppose to contribute to this world? I know my talents and my gifts, but how am I suppose to use them? So many questions, so little answers. I can tell you that at 16 years old, I thought I would be someone important by the age of 25. I thought I'd live in a big fancy house, be wealthy, and probably famous for something. Even if it were just for my smile. I had high expectations for myself, as well as my family. So, as I sit here at 26, writing this blog, do I think that my 16 year old self would be disappointed in where we ended up at 26? I use to. You see, I'm that kind of girl, that kind of christian, that thinks I have to be perfect. I have to look perfect, I have be perfect, I have to talk perfect, I have to be the perfect wife, the perfect daughter, the perfect mother, the perfect christian. Perfection was my enemy. Until just recently I looked perfection in the eye and finally admitted out loud that I'm not perfect and it is ok. When I finally admitted this to myself, God, my family, and everyone else, that's when my life began to make a turn. A change for the better. I no longer feel the constant pressure to be perfect. I know I'm going to make mistakes and I'm going to disappoint people in life, but it will be ok. I will learn and move on. People will forgive me and we'll move on.  All that perfection kept my panties in a bunch anyway.  I feel so less stressed and so much more happy now that I have realized that it's ok to make mistakes, to be flawed. What made me come to this realization? My life. Realizing that I wasn't in that place I exactly wanted to be or had wanted to be at 26 years of age, but then realizing that I was happy. But admitting that I'm not happy with myself. Phew. That was a hard one. Admitting. It's such a hard thing. Being honest with yourself, let alone others, can be the hardest thing to do on your journey to recovery. Any kind of recovery.  Honesty. Here it goes. Step one: admitting your faults to the world, even if just one person ever reads this blog, I'm about to be brutally honest with myself, in this tell all confession. Why? Because I need to. It's therapy. I need to share with you that I'm not perfect and that my life is not perfect, because it will help me to move on and maybe just maybe, it will help you come to some realizations for yourself. So this is the first of many blogs to come, of my confessions as a recovering perfectionist. Hey, we're all recovering from something, right?