From a letter to my “friend” written February 2019.

I’ve been thinking about something we discussed recently. You mentioned my perfectionism and I agreed with you except I didn’t have any current examples of it. Because I’ve let that go. 

I recognized my quest for perfect as a remnant of childhood trauma. A wound I was attempting to heal. Perfectionism = approval = love = worthiness = crazy. In my opinion. 

I know longer hold myself to that standard. I’m much kinder to myself. I know that I am enough because of and with all my imperfections. I began seeing myself and loving myself and accepting myself in a healthier way. 

Do I still have a standard of excellence? Absolutely. Am I going to start a project over if it’s not developing as expected? More than likely. I will continue to grow to be the best, loving spirit I can possibly be in all aspects. I also have a measure of grace that I give myself when things are less than perfect. I’m able to laugh at myself, learn the lesson for next time, forgive myself, and enjoy the moment as is. I have learned to see perfection in the what it is…now. And I am infinitely grateful for every moment. 

I been delivert.