Confessions of a Perfectionist
I just humiliated myself. I just pulled our riding lawn mower to the front yard and then right back into the garage. I couldn't figure out how to make it cut grass. I hate moments like that. That's when I hope all the neighbors were busy cutting onions in the kitchen or better yet, gone. Thankfully, the woman whose kitchen window faces my house is on vacation. Yep! I had all those thoughts. I hate feeling stupid.
Many people in my past think that I'm really something special. That's because most of them knew me in a school setting. If there's one thing I can do consistently well, it's academics. Yes, sir. I'm a certified nerd. I can pull a ridiculously high grade in pretty much any subject, and to top it off, I test well, too. Growing up, I was a big fish in a small pond. Aha, the birth of a perfectionist. If I ever made below an A, and it was "publicized" somehow, I was harassed by classmates for days. My mother, working in an adjoining school, found out about my one B in ninth grade, before school was dismissed for the day. Anyways, I quickly adjusted by avoiding anything I wasn't sure I'd succeed at. Pretty easy until you're 18. When your whole life is school, and that's easy enough, well.... the real world was coming quickly.
The truth is I'm pathetic at many things: I don't sing parts. When I'm with Nathan's talented friends, I lip-sync. Decorating a home is extremely hard for me. I hate scrapbooking. I'm technologically and mechanically challenged (hence, lawnmower and aforementioned computer problems). I'm not athletic or graceful on skates. Have you ever mistaken four cloves of garlic for four BULBS? Whew! A 12x60 trailer will stink for weeks! I don't take enough pictures of my kids. And did I mention that I really struggle with praying?
Sometimes, I get so caught up in 'hiding' my shortcomings. I guess subconsciously that I expect the people in my life to snicker behind their hands or even openly say, "What! You can't do THAT?! I guess you're not perfect, after all." Well, here I am, opening my insecurities up to you, my dear blogger friends. I thought it might be more helpful to blog on this than to keep crying on the couch while Alex screams and Kathryn says, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...." ;o) I recently heard someone say, "When I became a man, I put away childish things, including the fear of being thought childish." That's my goal for right now. And if anyone would like to mow the grass before Nathan arrives home from TX tonight, just knock.