Why You Need To Learn To Forgive Yourself

forgive

I walk into my apartment, tripping over two pairs of shoes. Looking around, I sigh at the random piles of laundry haphazardly cluttering my carpeted floor. Saturday’s outfit in the corner, Sunday’s outfit by the sofa. When did I even wear those jeans? There’s a half-constructed Ikea dresser laying in the middle of the living room, making it difficult to get anywhere. Random screws, nails, and other weird Ikea furniture construction hardware is spewed out on the floor, becoming embedded in the carpet, posing serious danger for my always-bare feet.

The dishwasher is full of week-old clean dishes that I have yet to unload, which, of course, means that the sink is full of empty water cups and cereal bowls. I tip-toe my way through the chaos, only to round the corner and spot the dining room table. A stray hairbrush and product packaging graces its top. Each of the four chairs are loaded up with various items. “Oh my gosh…” I think.

Walking into the bathroom, I cringe at the sight of every beauty product I’ve used in the past week piled on the counter. My neatly labeled linen closet is nearly empty, but my counter is absolutely full. More random outfits (mostly pajamas) are strewn around.

My bedroom isn’t an exception to the apparent tornado that tore through my home. Still more pieces of clothing are draped on my bed and floor (how do I have this much clothing?). My bed is unmade–no, that is an understatement. A lone pillow remains atop my bed with my comforter, quilt, top sheet, and other pillows piling up around the room.

My fridge is empty except for some moldy mozzarella cheese and expired orange juice. There are a couple of pints of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer alongside some stale ice cubes.

I check my email, and it is full of unopened, unanswered messages.

I haven’t worked out at the rather pricey gym I pay for monthly in almost three weeks.

I’ve been almost-late to work multiple times in the past two weeks.

I left my patio door open on Sunday afternoon and fell asleep, allowing two large flies and quite a few mosquitoes into my apartment, most of which have yet to leave.

Two bags of trash are ready to be tossed in the dumpster, but sit patiently by the door instead.

I bought a movie On Demand for $5 and took unplanned naps both times I tried to watch it.

Hear this: I am a hot mess. We all are.

For the past 10 days or so, my life has been frazzled, chaotic, and inconsistent (can you tell?). I haven’t been able to effectively prioritize much of anything, so nothing has really gotten done. Blame it on the holidays around the corner…blame it on the weather…blame it on human nature. This perfectionist girl has been a total mess.

My parents never shook their metaphorical finger at me when I didn’t do well on a test as a little girl because they “could never put as much pressure on me as I already put on myself.” I hold myself to a ridiculous standard–I hold myself to near-perfect always. When life isn’t just-so, I usually crumble. Become angry with myself. Annoyed that I’m not doing better. Self-loathe. Beat myself up.

Come on, Blair, you could have made a to-do list.

Really–you didn’t go to the grocery store again today? 

Why haven’t you done laundry yet?

Why haven’t you finished putting together the dresser yet?

Why haven’t you become perfect yet?

And it swirls and it swirls and it becomes too much to handle and I start to freeze. But I’ve learned something–something ordinary yet miraculous: that it’s important to forgive myself. Perfection is an illusion and life is messy and I am allowed to throw my hands up and say “I’m a mess!” So, today, I say WORLD–I am a mess! But it’s okay. I forgive me.

As Ann Voskamp so poignantly said,

“Life isn’t about getting it right – but about receiving grace.” -Ann Voskamp

 Here’s to imperfection–for it is full of grace.

 

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Howdy! I'm Blair, and I write on this lovely little slice of the interwebs. Thank you for stopping by! I'm a lover of: daisies, coffee, sunsets, Jesus, laughter, New Girl, candles, and warm towels. I don't care for: pessimism, sunburn, seafood, accounting, or the color red. Please comment or email me at blair@blairblogs.com if you'd like to chat!

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Comments

  1. I follow you on Bloglovin and I don’t even remember where I found your blog, but literally, I felt like this was written by me. Hoping the holidays are relaxing for you!

  2. Blair, i really enjoyed this post! Every now and then we all feel like this. Thanks for reminding us what is important!

    Cristina

  3. I couldn’t have said it better myself! I definitely blame my lackadaisical nature lately on the holidays coming up – it just feels like I have SO much to do that sometimes it’s easier to do NONE of it… Funny thing, huh?
    But you’re very right, it’s important to forgive rather than beating ourselves up when we’re in a little bit of a funk or whatever it may be. No one’s perfect and we’re all just out here doing our best! :) Thanks for the great post, as always!

  4. I am a perfectionist too, and tend to get frustrated with my normally organized, turned to crazy absent-minded self during the holidays. Thank you for the much needed pick-me-up :)

  5. Exactly what I needed to hear!!!

  6. Oh girl! We’ve all been there. And I feel like you and I are cut from the same cloth when it comes to holding yourself to high standards. Forgiving yourself is the best you can do and just try again tomorrow :) btw, love your blog <3

  7. This post just made me like you so much more! I am a perfectionist to the point of it being a problem and strive so hard to be perfect 99.9% of the time and always fall short. I read blogs like these and think what are they doing that I’m not!? Why is there life perfect and I’m struggling just to make it day to day. To know that people like you really do have things strewn around the house and things are not 100% perfect 100% of the time is such a relief! Thank you for sharing this with us!

    • Hehehe, I’m glad this most won your heart ;)

      Yeah girl, hear me loud and clear–I am SO far from perfect! I’m riding the struggle bus as much as anyone else!

      Thanks for reading, Molly!

      xo,
      b

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