First- it would be rude to start without a brief apology. It can hardly be said that I've been maintaining this blog with the incredible time that has lapsed between my last post and this one. For that, I apologize. To sum up, so much life has seemed to interfere- or I guess not "so much life" so much as "life," really. In these weeks I've been away, we've moved to a new apartment (so the typical, pack, move, unpack, arrange, re-arrange, decorate, re-decorate, and paint- lots of paint), I've quit my job (so apply/reject, apply/reject, offer, contemplate, mull over- question thinking process over and over), and started another- a whole emotional rollercoaster of its own.
Anyway, I've been thinking a lot lately of perfection. For anyone who knows me, I have dedicated a great portion of my life and energies to perfection. I mean well, but at my core, I am a chronic perfectionist. I want to do the best job possible, be the best possible, do as many "right" things as humanly possible, and on and on. It isn't healthy, and for the most part I've learned to let go of the unhealthy portions of my "perfect motivations" but still- I want everything to go right. All the time. But the more I've thought about it lately, I think I've been addressing "perfect" the wrong direction.
I consider that Mimi and I have a pretty perfect relationship, but that being said, we have some pretty imperfect days- and regularly. In fact, things are by far not always "perfect." I have/had days at work that are/were awful- I would come home burdened, stressed, over-worked, and drained, and those feelings don't always make me a delight to be around. Mimi has her own stresses- work, family, days that are way too long, as so on (though the official party stance is as follows: she is unaffected by these whims of life and is always delightful. ;-). ) Moreover, we are two female persons in a committed relationship who spend nearly every minute together and as can be expected - we argue, we fight, and we definitely disagree a lot of times. Over important things, but mostly ridiculous things, and it throws a huge wrench in those perfect days.
But the thing I've been thinking is- I don't think "perfect" means that everything aligns exactly right, that everyone says the exact right thing, and we only do the exact right thing every time. I think "perfect" might mean- at the end of the day, the bad, "imperfect" moments, are merely a slight, and completely acceptable part, of an overall great great thing. I think perfect is feeling bad knowing we've screamed when we shouldn't have, but not being afraid that we did- because nothing is changing. I think perfect is building a home together, and knowing we've struggled to get here, and we'll struggle again, but it's worth it. I think perfect is knowing the worst that could possibly come, is worth all the best that has already happened. I think what we have is pretty perfect, and I think this is the kind of perfect I'll be striving for from now on.
