F*#$@+# Perfect

F*#$@+# Perfect


I am in dance class watching my reflection move while music pounds through my body, the sound rich and volume high enough to consume me. Safety. I scan the shell of the body and the face that holds behind it stories only she knows. She is confident in this room. She doubts nothing here, noise sealed out by a heavy door. She believes fully in her pulse and her pull, the way it was granted. She feels alive and protected and capable.

I scan the other faces wondering what thick stories sit behind their curtains. Each woman becomes more beautiful to me in doing so, the real kind of beauty–life-carved versus shallow, genetic configuration or painted layers.

Dance is therapy and I’m working out a serious session inside. I am rebuilding crumbled parts recently picked away by others. Let me rephrase that – the parts I LET others pick away from me. Maybe even parts I scratched at myself. It’s our choice, really. I think of all the other times I’ve shown up in front of this mirror – a literal reflection of self and situation – and walked away a better person for believing in my wholeness again, exactly the way I stood there within that crowd of relative strangers. Our bodies take different shapes and we have arrived for different reasons, but we are MOVING together.

The song consuming the room is called F#$@# Perfect, by Pink. How appropriate. A soulful anthem about silencing the voices that keep us small and wounded.

When considering myself within an interaction, the ways I take on a feeling or respond to others, I have a habit of extending that scenario to my babes. I imagine them in similar situations. I imagine the ways I would pray that they feel in these shoes, the wisdom beneath the surface that I hope they dive for. I wish that despite ill treatment witnessed in this world, they will stretch their understanding of others to mitigate victimhood and cultivate strength. That they don’t offer vacancy to misdirected anger depleting their worth as an authentic being. That they not continuously choose the underhand of comparison – to thwart comparison altogether – and that they tell paralyzing doubt to “shove it.”

To my babes I’ll offer…

There will be times when you doubt yourself and there are many reasons for it. It hurts. It’s treatable, reversible. It’s not easy. But so damn worth it. And it’s entirely your choice.

We are creatures of comparison – what others look like or have (relationships, talent, beauty, insight, resources, family, support systems, friends, possessions, and potentially any other damn thing). Channeling any jealousy or inadequacy you may harbor into admiration and encouragement of others sparks a match, shining a light onto those around you of which you’ll share in the glow. You will illuminate self-care, positivity, and inspiration.

We are masters of assumption and projection, unnecessarily filling in the blanks of unclear exchanges. We are catchers of criticism, letting the constructive kind and compliments slip right through the glove, but gripping tightly an unkind label like glue.

People will judge our insides from what little they know of our outsides. They will sling their opinions and judgments as truth – their truths – and hold you to that declaration no matter what degree of untruth it is to you, aware or not.

You will be temped to give in and give up when you feel you’re not stacking up. That is never the answer. Ever. This discomfort is a cue that something matters enough to stir you. Settle into it a bit. Keep showing up.

When in doubt, go back to something you know, something you believe in or you are good at, something that reminds you of who you are, something that moves you to contribute. Remember how it makes you feel to be yourself out loud and offer gratitude for that awareness. Take a minute to count your damn blessings (you have a ridiculous amount of blessings) and pause there long enough to abate the but.

The way you see yourself is the way you’ll ask others to see you. Don’t sell yourself short.

Your perfection lies in the way that you were made, exactly who you were meant to be – in strength and weakness – and remains in constant fluid form. You are a part of this huge world for a reason and you have a contribution to offer. Listen carefully to the ways it reveals itself, how it speaks to you. Inspire and be inspired.

You will screw up many times. You’ll experience guilt and regret. Extract meaning, but don’t get trapped there. Search yourself, make your peace, and allow it to serve as a healthy way to humble you and teach you.

Graciously decide your worth and protect it – first from yourself, and then from anyone who tries to scratch at it.

The places you find yourself will serve you. You are equipped for the right now. Don’t hide from it.

Do you. Dance.

I write to process. I write to remember. I write for village. I write so that one-day my children may know where they’re from. If the words move you, if someone could use them, please share… 

I’m Sheddingwww.livingfromthisdayforward.com

I’m Shedding

Our shedding is our blind becoming. Our skin begins to feel tight and uncomfortable. We don’t belong in it, we’re certain. It’s itchy and we are unsure why until we begin to see fragments peeling away, revealing a new layer of our knowing, bringing us closer to our center; that place that has been unnecessarily cloaked and muffled, but remains untarnished and true and whole underneath.

Read more »{1 comments}
Rolling Pageswww.livingfromthisdayforward.com

Rolling Pages

I witnessed infinite expression of what I believe to be similar guts—hunger for connection, safety, belonging, and purpose, expressed in varying language. The greatest of souvenirs is a new set of eyes.

Read more »{0 comments}
A Boy and His FishIMG_9099-2

A Boy and His Fish

Sweet boy, I can’t take this feeling away. I wouldn’t even if I could. The beautiful privilege to have loved so greatly that such a loss changes you will expand your capacity to love, to honor. Never avoid loving at the risk of loss.

Read more »{0 comments}
If I Could Gift You Stillnesswww.livingfromthisdayforward.com

If I Could Gift You Stillness

If I could give you nothing else, I’d plant deeply the gift of stillness in your core. To listen, smell, taste, trace, and observe in silence, processing the vibrations within your being and in relation to this world of beings you share this space with, that escape definition or tangibility, but remain truer than any other things.

Read more »{0 comments}
Starting Over & “Holy Shi#, Jump!” Livingwww.livingfromthisdayforward.com

Starting Over & “Holy Shi#, Jump!” Living

It takes exactly the number of days that pass before our decisions come into clear focus to know where we’ll venture next. And here I stand. Here we all stand in the next place.

Read more »{4 comments}
Be the Handwww.livingfromthisdayforward.com

Be the Hand

I wonder if I did enough? I wonder where I could have been braver with my words and actions, separated myself from situations I witnessed that made me feel uncomfortable on one’s behalf? I wonder if anyone felt my sympathy and extension in the warm, relieved in the way I have felt hands extended to me?

Read more »{2 comments}