I’ve written this post over and over in my head 1,000 times. The post in which I step back into this long-forgotten space of mine and find words and courage to write once again. The truth is, it’s been a fiercely hard year for me. As much as it’s true that as a busy mama I simply haven’t had the time to keep up with blogging, it’s far more accurate to say that somewhere in the chaos of moving, remodeling projects, bringing sweet bebe number 3 into the world, the walloping sleep deprivation to follow, mixed with our general unsettledness, I completely lost myself.
I became so greatly overwhelmed that I was living day after day in survival mode, without so much as a spark of creativity. For far too long, I had been slapping on a happy face and agreeing to more commitments than necessary, all the while secretly feeling completely hollowed out and ashamed. I was so busy keeping up appearances & caring for everyone else, that I had completely written myself off and was in complete denial over how much I was hurting. The nasty things I’d tell myself are words I would never ascribe to another human being. In the future, I hope to be more transparent about my struggles with depression & anxiety, because I’ve learned that doing so helps to shine light in dark places. If even just my own.
This online world can be so strange. All too often, I’ve found myself scrolling mindlessly through my Instagram feed for example, looking at everyone else’s most lovely, thoughtful, high points, all the while comparing them to my lows. I’ve honestly believed at times that I had nothing worthwhile to contribute to the world. I’ve felt so inadequate. Like I had already tried my hands at blogging and failed. Like I was not compatible with society. Like I needed to have a perfectly decorated and tidy home in order to share glimpses into our family life; or that I needed to master handmade crafts of all kinds and generate dazzling daily content before I could maintain a legitimate blog. Sheesh!!
How grateful I am to have finally come to grips with how this is all so untrue! Even just typing out those crazy-girl standards I’d been holding over my head is so freeing. I’ve been longing for so long to get back ‘at it, because I find so much joy in sharing photos and stories, but truly did not know where to start. Perfectionism and comparison are so crippling to me. But with time, kind friends, fresh air, and good reads helping to heal all things, I am learning that I simply need to dust off my keyboard and start, however imperfectly it may be. Life is so messy, filled with ups, downs, twists & turns, and I want to just show up for it and be able to be more present in each moment of the journey.
Cheers to new beginnings, to being our authentic selves, overcoming perfectionism, and finding the beauty in the the everyday.
Speaking of letting go of perfect, I have given up on the idea of snapping perfectly posed photos of these squirrely kids. The real, monkies in motion are so much more sweet and vibrant. (: