Whoah

I am in a fantastic mood today. Just deep down internal happiness.

(Give me a minute to get to the Whoah.)

It’s been awhile since I felt this. Things have just been spiraling since October, but I feel HOPE today. Will this feeling of perfect happiness last every second of the rest of my life? Hell no. Lol But that’s ok.

I am a firm believer that we need contrast. If we never feel sadness, how do we appreciate happiness? If we never feel tumult, how do we recognize peace?

But…TODAY… I’m happy and at peace.

Why? Nothing is perfect. Nothing ever is. Perfection is unattainable…but…everything is GOOD.

My almost 15 year old and I had FUN last night. Not out buying her stuff…at home working hard to put our house back together after some remodeling…we worked hard…and we laughed harder. If you’ve ever been the parent of a hot headed teenager…you know how precious these moments are. Don’t get me wrong, she’ll hate me later…but for those hours…I was her bestie again.

This morning I ran. Not the fastest or furthest I’ve ever run. But I RAN. Which I was starting to be afraid I’d never do again.

I’m back in some of my smaller jeans…and they fit like a glove instead of a sausage casing. I still need to lose another 10 pounds or so, but I’m making progress.

I looked in the mirror this morning and actually liked what I saw. Those moments are rare, so I bless them when I get them.

I’m finding my footing with my friends again. I’m getting through the semester and tax season from Hell. I’m pushing through and I’m making it. I’m exhausted and I’ve dropped a couple of balls, but the world didn’t end.

See? Nothing is perfect. Nothing is ever perfect…

Which was the beginning of my Whoah.

I have strived to be perfect for as long as I can remember. I don’t expect it from anyone else, but I have expected it from myself. I get angry with myself if I fail…I get angry with myself if I let anyone down…I apologize more than a Canadian with a cough during Covid season.

Why? Why do I expect more from myself than anyone else?

Because, maybe…just maybe…if I’m perfect people won’t leave.

WAIT, WHAT? WHAT KIND OF DRUGS ARE YOU ON, SHERI?!?

As I was thinking through this, my brain fell on a memory that it falls on often. Right after the kidnapping came to light…in the media circus and the strangers…there was this thought.

“This can’t be real. Anything else would make more sense. I’m betting that they decided they couldn’t afford 3 kids…so they came up with this elaborate story to get rid of a couple and keep the baby.”

In my head that made more sense than, “You’ve been kidnapped for your entire life and nothing is real.” And, honestly, until today…it has always made sense that I felt that way. Hell, we all try to find sense in the senseless. But, today it hit me…

WHY, in God’s name, would I believe it made more sense that they just didn’t want me THAT much?!?!

Because I wasn’t perfect. My mom always said I was ugly. No one wants an ugly daughter. I think I got a B on a test last week. The only thing I am is smart, so I messed that up, too. I’m too girly. I cry too much. I want too much.

I’m not perfect.

Maybe if I had been they wouldn’t have given me away.

Ridiculous. So, so VERY ridiculous. But that belief and mindset has shaped everything for the majority of my life.

Maybe if I’m perfect, no one will leave. Maybe if I do better, I can be loved. Maybe if I’m prettier…or thinner…or smarter…or kinder…or funnier…or…or…or

Maybe I can be worthy of love. Maybe someone…ANYONE won’t leave.

But, at times, I lost myself in my effort to keep the world.

So…WHOAH…That ONE thought…that honestly everyone always told me made sense and was understandable…shaped EVERYTHING.

But…I’m not perfect. No one is. I look homeless on a Saturday afternoon…I bomb a test…I get sick…I get sad…I break my leg…I mess up…

But I’m not alone.

Sometimes I’m a bitch…sometimes I’m moody…sometimes I’m anxious and afraid. That’s not perfect.

But I’m not alone.

I am not perfect and, yet, some people haven’t left.

So…today I’m relishing my imperfect life. I will have bad days with my kid. But I have amazing days with her, too. I will feel ugly, but some days I’ll be like, “Yeah…what up, you?!?” and give the mirror a lascivious wink. Some days I won’t be able to focus, other days I’ll get As without trying.

Ups and downs. Happiness and sadness. Imperfections and absolutely perfect moments. They will all happen…and no one will give me away.

Whoah