As I sat in a new coffee shop on a comfy couch. Next to me there was a life-sized. As I sat there, I thought of something an old friend said to me after reading one of my blogs. He said, “Do you think you’d be so happy with getting older if your life wasn’t so perfect?” That question threw me for a loop, and it made me angry. I certainly don’t look at my life as perfect; I have had some great ups and enormous downs and for the moment, I am steady as I go, but it got me thinking. I decided that I would be just as happy with getting older if life wasn’t easier or “perfect”. I try not to be that person who is only happy when things are good, and I’ve only learned how to do that with getting older.
Life being perfect and getting older don’t go hand in hand for me. You are going to get older whether or not your life is perfect and who are those people who have “perfect” lives. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be in that perfect club. Life is messy, and as you get older, you should wear your experiences as a badge. Your grey hair. Your crow’s feet. The limp of your creaky old bones. You should wear them proudly and not worry about being “perfect”, you are you, and that is perfect. Now, my friend Adam will tell you, I am the least confident person, and I struggle every day with thinking that I’m good enough, but I’m lucky to have him in my life. He keeps reminding me that I am smart, talented and just damn adorable. Everyone needs a friend who will tell you of those things, especially when you forget yourself. My husband tells me, and I believe him every time he tells me, but for some reason it is different when you hear it from a brutally honest friend.
A few months ago I started stressing out about my son’s wedding. My ex-husband and his younger, skinnier wife will be there, my ex-in-laws are also going to be there. That whole family is a large part of my insecurities. I never felt any of those beautiful things that Adam and Rob tell me when I was around them, and I was afraid, seriously afraid of the wedding for that very reason. I started dieting and exercising like a fiend. I was miserable. Then Adam said something to me in passing that I’m sure up until now he had no idea what an impact it had on me. He said, “I never thought of you as having to lose weight”. Right then I stopped, I stopped everything. I stopped obsessively exercising; I stopped “dieting” and I looked in the mirror, really looked and tried to see myself through Adam’s eyes. I saw me staring back at me. Not the size 6, long brown hair, big eye version that society would deem perfect. I saw a slightly large, short salt & pepper hair, big eyed me. I was happy, and I was more confident than I had ever been in my life at that very moment, I was the “Perfect” version of me.
I no longer stress out about my son’s wedding, and I’m so very excited to see my sweet baby Raymond marry the girl of his dreams. I will dance in a dress that makes me feel pretty. I will be confident that I raised a good, kind, funny and loving man. I will eat, drink and be merry with my imperfectly perfect life.