Perfect

1:38 PM

Growing up, there was a pressure to be perfect and I can definitely err on the side of striving for perfection rather than striving for excellence. If there is a single thing wrong, it can feel like everything is. I have learned through wise counsel and quiet reflection with myself and God that striving for perfection is an exhausting, unrewarding effort. However, striving for excellence is where the gold is. Learning to accept error, lack, or less than amazing is hard for me and does not come naturally. Some people too easily accept the situation they are in and never strive for improvement, and some spend their days anxiously trying to make everything flawless, and if it’s not, at least make it appear flawless. My goal as an adult is to land in the balance: to be okay where things aren’t all together, yet to strive for improvement always.

When I think about my generation now moving into real adulthood, I know that with Pinterest and Instagram and all the social media outlets, we can wind up portraying a life that’s perfect, only sharing that which impresses and is shiny and exciting. I wrestle with personal content being shared because I don’t like the alternative end of the spectrum where people complain and basically embarrass themselves by sharing too much and turning people off with the negative posts. I want to be authentic yet inspiring - that is my goal.

People are constantly enamoured with my blog and my posts, and I often receive comments about how my house is absolutely perfect and that makes me really happy. I love the positivity and it makes me so incredibly joyful when people compliment the decorating here. Yet, I hate to think that people think things are perfect. I think that’s why I made this blog…it’s very real and I tell the truth about the realities of buying a home 130 years old that needs a lot of work. I share my stories of financial woes and wild animals making themselves cozy. I truly hope people see the realities, the joys and the struggles, and know my heart - that I am not aiming to portray a perfect life. When life is hard, it’s important to have an outlet to express your feelings and navigate through the emotions and disappointments. For me, that outlet has always been writing. People would easily assume my number one love is photography, but it’s not. I’ve always felt my photography was for others, my writing was for me. I don’t often print my own work…and by often I mean I haven’t printed one of my photos for myself in almost 3 years. That is actually really pathetic haha, but it’s because I don’t know if I get anything out of looking at my photography. It means more to me to know it’s hanging in other people’s homes. It’s a gifting I have been given to use for others. It’s not the art form that truly speaks to my soul, again for me that is writing and reading other people’s writing.

Growing up, and even now, I always wanted to be an author. As an adult who is incredibly (possibly too) self-aware, I fear that writing could become something you give away, something that is no longer for you. It’s so personal to me and so honest and brave and authentic. Giving that part of your soul to the world leaves the writer naked, exposed, and desperate. I want to wrap myself in my writing and let it keep me company. I don’t know if I will ever feel safe to share it. Not withholding out of insecurity, I withhold because often writing IS my security. I am afraid to lose that. However, with all that being said, I know this winter will be a season of writing for me and that it will take up a lot of my time, even with all my fears that come with that. Who knows what will happen but I am thankful for all that I have and even for the lack. Lack teaches us that we still have steps to take, mountains to move, and adventures that await us.

Comment Below

0 comments

Thank you for your comment! :)

Meet Milo & Meadow

Meet Isla Rain

Meet "The Parents"