Let’s all just quit making nice with trying to be perfect, shall we?
17

What the hell is this blog all about, anyway?

Well, on the surface, it’s about me (hello, there).

But really, it’s about me AND you AND your neighbor AND your best friend AND boss AND daughter-in-law AND your grocery store clerk…

It’s about all of us.

Let me explain.

In grade school, I spent my rides home talking my mom’s ear off about every little thing that happened to me.

Every day.

The good, the bad. Things I did or didn’t do right. Things I noticed or that particularly bothered me.

All of it.

One time, I saw Greg Anderson’s tighty whities through a hole in his basketball shorts.

I felt guilty about it, so naturally, I told my mom.

These days, it’s called “verbal vomit.”

Back then, I think I just desperately wanted to hear that everything would be okay. That I was okay. Normal. Lovable. Worthy.

Maybe I wanted approval. Permission to be myself, even if it looked different from everyone else.

Permission to not. be. perfect.

Shit, I’m 33 and still looking for someone to tell me it’s okay to mess up.

And the more I look around and talk to people…

… the farther along I get on this sequential timeline…

… it seems to me that a lot of us are looking for the same damned thing.

So, this is my way of offering some of it to you.

This is for all of you who:

* kick yourselves constantly for falling short of your own impossibly high standards

* can’t stop comparing yourself to the endless paradise and perfection splashed all over social media

* make mistakes… a lot… but want to use them to grow stronger / better / more resilient

Here, I fight perfectionism with verbal vomit.

Because, while you learn from making your own mistakes, you also learn from seeing the mistakes of others… and acknowledging that none of us are perfect feels downright freeing, dontcha think?

So, this is me, broadcasting my big mistakes and shortcomings for our mutual benefit, putting words to feelings and challenges that aren’t often openly discussed so that we can both feel less alone / crazy / weird.

Or, if you’re just here to catch the total shit show of my failures, that’s okay too. (Just keep the heckling to a minimum – cool?)

My hope is that you read these posts and maybe see a little of yourself – the same fears, hopes, worries, ambitions, anxieties, dreams, frustrations.

I’m hoping you’ll see me biting and clawing my way through adulthood and finding my artistic voice and think to yourself, “Hey, I’m not so crazy after all (she’s crazy).”

Or, maybe you’ll think I’m a totally ridiculous weirdo, but then you’ll realize that you kind of are, too, and that finally will give you the unspoken permission you need to finally accept that you’re not perfect (*gasp*).

(Because none of us actually is, y’know)

(Despite our attempts to act and believe otherwise)

This blog is me, in black and white, airing my dirty laundry in an effort to feel a little more okay with less-than-perfect.

This blog is for me, you, and all of the folks out there who refuse to stop holding themselves to impossibly high standards (even though they rarely meet up to them and it kind of, sort of kills us inside).

I hope that my laundry will somehow help you along with yours, even just the tiniest bit.

And if it doesn’t, feel free to move along.

No harm, no foul.

Cheers.

Lauren