.SOMETIMES RAW.

This blog post was triggered by a conversation I had today. I want to write about imperfections and perfectionism. This is probably a topic we can all relate to at some point in our lives. To make it personal: it is definitely something I can relate to and have previously struggled with.  It is not something that overrules every aspect of my life anymore, it rather focuses more on specific things. Previously, one thing I struggled with was that whenever it came to the content I created online or actually anything creative I produced, I felt it is not perfect which was a huge source of anxiety for me.

There was a time in my life when I worried that I am bad at being myself or being authentic which is a really important part of my life. When I take a step back or do not want to share certain private things, it is because vulnerability is still a scary thing for me. It is scary to admit that our life is not perfect.

I read The Gift of Imperfection by Brené Brown and one of my favorite quotes from the book is actually her definition of imperfections which is, that perfectionism is an addictive belief system that if we do everything perfectly we can avoid or minimize the chances of being judged, blamed or feeling ashamed. When I read that, I thought that this relates to me at so many levels. I am German, so being perfect is something that runs in our DNA. Feelings I previously had when I moved to the U.S. in 2005 were for example that I sounded weird because of my accent or I did not want to say anything at all to avoid feeling stupid or to reveal lack of knowledge. But it was not just about that. It was more about this underlying fear or attempt to avoid being judged for who I am or for what my life really looks like which was often really messy.

Life is sometimes messy and can throw us all over the place. Especially, if we are not grounded. According to our Energy Chakras, to be grounded means, we should feel stable and independent, have energy, vitality, and strength and are comfortable in our physical body, in groups or in the world as well as have a sense of belonging. We usually do not live the perfect life; at least not all of the time.  When I mentioned “messy”, I am not necessarily talking about my kitchen or bathroom (German OCD Cleaning at its best!) but the complexity of all the struggles that I go through, the fears that I have, my relationships with others.  But the reality is that nobody is perfect. Perfect does not exist. There is no such things as that. No matter what we do, judgment and criticism is always going to exist in our lives even if we try to make everything as perfect as possible or try to live up to these standards that we create for ourselves.

I think that living in this world these days with being exposed to social media everywhere and that we can reach out to anyone anytime it is important to realize that this is also a place where we compare our lives. Other people you see online with perfect polished images and seemingly perfect lives can distract and put you down. It can give you the feeling that you are not good or adequate enough. Or it may give you the feeling that you need to have what they have to be happy, and be accepted, worthy and all those things.

For a lot of us, perfectionism also manifests as a deep fear of putting anything into the world that is imperfect or quite not what we want it to be. Or we have this fear of failure, to make a mistake or we don’t do the thing we want to do because we feel we will mess up. It is the difference between striving to achieve something as best as we can versus being so fixated on the things that do not matter such as what other people think is good or how others perceive us. Perfectionism can be such a paralyzing part of life. There was a point in my life where I literally had to force myself to feel this discomfort of what I perceive to be imperfect by simply telling myself: It is fine. You are enough. It is enough. It will do. Because that is how I feel I rise above anything in life that I am afraid of. Sort of like doing it anyway, feeling it, experiencing it and gaining confidence in that way by understanding that perfection does not exist.

F*** Botox and plastic surgery! I feel that imperfections shape me into who I am in so many different ways. They are what makes me quirky, unique and different and I am able to sit down and embrace those and accept what makes me me.  I am my own unique opinion, belief, preference, and style and that is when I can really be liberated. This is when I can ultimately relate to others realizing that we go through all the same bs*** anyway. It is okay to be ourselves. It is okay to not be perfect. It is okay to have wrinkles. We do not have to be someone else to fit in or any of those thoughts to be enough; because we already are.

I sat in a café the other day and overheard a phone conversation a man had with a friend. I sometimes pretend-listen to music when I am at a café while working. Simply because I love to hear what people have to say, especially at this little particular café. The man who sat next to me initially spoke to the waiter telling him that a friend of his recently got diagnosed by his therapist with an “emotional cold”. He explained that he has been seeing this therapist for many years now and he had to schedule an appointment the other day because he was simply dragging his body around like a kid in trouble while examining his life and the world through dark- colored glasses. He added that he felt hopelessness, inadequacy, self-doubt and social dread. His house started to become really messy while he just laid on the couch and looked like a sad version of himself. And then out of a sudden, it stopped raining, the clouds parted, the sun came out and the sky turned blue again.

The waiter looked at him puzzled raised an eyebrow but kept listening. “I felt better. Even great. Out of a sudden, I had so much energy again. I remembered that I have my friends, family, and my health and all is good,” he added. The waiter asked, “How can this be? How can you feel so low for a while but ultimately be just fine?” and while wiping some crumbs off the table, he added, “well, maybe this was just this emotional cold your therapist suggested after all.” Wiping crumbs off my keyboard, I thought about if emotional cold could indeed be a thing. Is this natural?

This made me think that we do live in an era of increased mental health awareness. Everybody seems to have a therapist on speed-dial. I guess the difference between real depression and emotional cold would be that one can easily “snap out” of the latter but it takes a long time to deal with the former and/or medication is required. I get the emotional cold sometimes when things are out of my control, I cannot change them but I worry about it. What usually helps me is, I pinpoint what it is that bothers me (sometimes it is literally just the workload for school or planning my son’s Halloween Birthday Party). Then I usually find a balance between nurturing my “cold” and letting it run its course but without indulging in it too much. I simply just put one foot in front of the other. It usually never lasts very long which is good. Sleeping, general relaxation, meditation and talking to family and friends help me. For me, the goal is to find something positive to build on while having a perspective when I am down and to give my body and mind a little pause when it clearly demands it.

I typed most of this while the man spoke to the waiter. He finished his coffee and croissant, gave me a little nod, then left. The waiter cleaned the table and received a phone call when I was about to leave.

“Oh, Mark, how are you doing? What is going on? Anything exciting happening? How are the kids? How is Lisa?

Yep, I got your email two days ago saying that you are going away and that you will never come back. I thought it was a joke. Ottawa is so nice.  Sorry, I just did not have the time to send you an email back. I am so busy these days. I know, I should have sent you a quick reply.

What do you mean you are traveling and not coming back? What about Lisa and the kids? Is it for your job? Did you finally get that promotion? Where are you going? Can I come and visit you?  What do you mean Lisa and the kid’s stay in Ottawa?  Well, initially with your new job you will be very busy but eventually, you will settle down. Maybe your family will join you.  I guess I will visit you then. I will miss you like crazy, Mark! What the hell, what about our book club and the meetings?

What do you mean you won’t have internet? You know there are internet cafés, right?  There won’t be internet where you are going? Where are you going? What’s with all the secrecy. When are you leaving? Okay, you don’t know exactly but you know it is very soon. Well, this sounds all crazy, Mark. Seriously.

Yes, I do listen. I listened to every word you said. We are friends for over 30 years. Mark, are you in some kind of trouble? Do you need money? Do you need help?

Okay, you don’t need money, you don’t have internet, you don’t have a computer…. you cannot call or email me; you might as well be dead, buddy. Come on, give me some sort of hint. Yeah, I love you, too, but c’mon. What’s with all the emotional love-you-stuff anyway?”

Mark hung up.

These days my nature is to do the sensible thing. To make the safe choice, keep quiet until I am sure what to say. Not to rush into things anymore. I thought I have seen it all but what I am going through these days is nothing I ever thought I would have to deal with. All I can say is that this is no way to say goodbye. At some point, two people were in love but are no longer due to certain circumstances. Reflecting on how things were a couple of years ago, the thought of being apart was overwhelming at some point. Those times when I drove him to the airport, we parked the car, walked hand in hand to the terminal, he checked in, and our hearts burst while we gazed at each other before we spoke. I remember the conversations almost verbatim. Then he left through the security checkpoint. And was gone.

As some of my readers have noticed, my husband and I have not been together for quite a while now. However, I don’t think it is fair to him to discuss specifics about our relationship on my blog or the internet.  As logical as this is, my initial thought was also to dismiss the suspicion that has built up for some time. Like a whiff of something that is just in my head. Or I just have to duck my head, cover my ears, eyes, and mouth and wait for it to blow over like the tornado in Ottawa last week. Then I can just wrap myself back inside the life that used to fit me so comfortably. And I just keep going because it would be a lot easier than what I am going through right now. But deep inside my body knows the truth, pricking tears into the corners of my eyes whenever I thought of it all, sleepless nights, adrenaline every time I probed a little further, every time I asked more questions. Last year around that time, all I felt was this unbearable hunger to have someone hold my deck of cards in their hands and gently nod in recognition telling me everything will be okay and dealt with because the house always wins.

Regardless, certain things that recently happened caught me by surprise since everything could have been solved a lot easier. I still do not understand why people who have nothing to do with “our issues” need to suffer but I reckon, there are reasons.  When I initially had been confronted with law agencies reports and files, I thought that everything looks blurry. Like I am missing something even though I haven’t lost anything or if I need something even though I have everything I used to need.

I am different now. All this stress made me even stronger. I changed and adjusted. Another piece of the puzzle has just started to crystallize. After all this time of indulging in the misplaced frustration that I was not able to see this insanity earlier, I wanted to find myself since I could not articulate who I was anymore. My life is changing. But it is not a bad thing. I am surrounded by love and the most amazing people after all.

These days I have to go through a lot of paperwork, phone calls and explaining situations, but I do send light and love whenever I think of him and then I drop it. What helped me a lot? Meditation and focusing on mySelf.  Sometimes when I meditate I feel more love than I ever felt before. I learned how to clear out most of the mess that comes in. Most people want things to stay the same way; sometimes even settled in misery because they are afraid of change. But why? Others make the same choices over and over and expect a different result. Or worse, some try to make something work or change a person. What for? If it doesn’t work or feel good, move on and leave.

These days,  I am happy and content. I can now, after all these crazy months finally articulate again who I am and I know for certain that it is something I have never been. Writing always helps me. This tight feeling in my throat when I want to cry and scream (it kind of feels like a lozenge stuck in my throat) usually disappears as soon as I write or when I am at my happy place. The other day, I had a nightmare. I won’t go into details but it was pretty bad. I got up, made myself a cup of tea and fragments of sentences swirled their way around my head and I started to type along. The words patiently waited for me to figure out how to fit them together at 2 am. Well, the positive aspect of all this is that my second book will get published soon if I keep working at this pace.

These days, I can pinpoint who I am and discern who I was, what I felt and why. I am the architect of my life and as confusing as it all seems, as disorienting, frustrating and sad as it feels, a curious thrill pulse is felt in me and my chest. It tells me that I can give myself permission to chase growth over insecurity and lies.