I was talking to my awesome friend Christy today at work and telling her about how disappointed I was with myself for the weekend I had. Although I had prepared another essay for today's post, she suggested that I write about these feelings instead. So here it is...
It got me down because I was aware of all of this weekend’s possibilities and I didn’t do any of it. I had also told myself that I would have perfect healthy food at every meal, but I ended up having take-out for some of my weekend meals.
All of this made me feel like a fraud because I’ve been writing about living my life and getting healthy, yet I didn’t do much “living” this past weekend, I didn’t exercise enough and my food intake wasn’t perfect. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I want to be the person I write about being – the person who’s getting her life together. I fool myself into thinking that I can achieve perfection. That I will live every weekend to the fullest and that I will always eat the best healthiest foods. And when I inevitably don't reach this perfection, I beat myself up about it.
The thing is that that’s not reasonable. There will be weekends where it seems like the only thing I can manage to do is breathe. There will be off days. I just have to remember that having a bad day (weekend) doesn’t mean that all of the progress I’ve made is out the window. I have the skills to get back up and get back at it.
When I stopped beating myself up and thought about some of the things I did, I realized that my perception was wrong. This past weekend, I went through my filed paperwork and got rid of more unnecessary documents. I made a batch of healthy Paleo morning glory muffins. I took my daughter to get a haircut while I got my nails done. My daughter and I went for a walk Saturday evening. I spent a little time with my daughter, sister, niece and mother on Sunday. And I wrote. My actions may not have lived up to my grand expectations, but they were positive actions nonetheless. It's not like I did nothing. But even if I didn't do anything, that would have been perfectly fine also.
I must accept that I'm perfectly imperfect.