I had a spa day in my bathroom this morning- on a random, uneventful Thursday.
It was one of those mornings where you don’t want to get out of bed- where every movement seems to require 10-times the effort and when makeup seems tricky and messy and hard to manage.
I had a spa day because I needed one- I needed a quiet moment alone, a tangible way of proving to myself that I still care- that I haven’t forgotten, that I’m still here.
I’ve been harsh with myself lately- expecting perfection in the things that are so big and sky high that I can barely reach them.
I want my decisions to be perfect, my choices and my actions following suit. I want to be equal parts successful and capable and gracious and patient. I want to be perfect in every way, never needing anything but always having an extra measure to pour out.
And those expectations have begun draining me like a slow, steady leak.
I’ve turned on my poor body- staring it down accusingly and hatefully- angry when it can’t keep up. I speak to it with distain when it gets tired or when it can’t perform the way I want it to.
And I’m having a hard time letting go.
Letting go of my expectations for myself feels like admitting that I’ll never reach them. Easing up on my body feels like giving up- coming to grips that I’ll never be what and who I so want to be.
I’m having a hard time prying my hands off of perfection, accepting grace and needing things. I’m having a hard time being the one that needs the prayer and the hugs and the listening ear. I’m having a hard time letting go of my pride and giving myself a break- understanding that perfection was never the goal in the first place.
And it’s not coming quickly.
The unraveling of my expectations is turning out to be a long and painful process- reluctantly accepting grace from those around me, while still refusing to give it to myself.
But this morning, in the shower and after, I took a small step in the right direction.
I scrubbed down with the best smelling sugar scrub- my favorite little treat after a year of showering in a bucket. I lathered on the thickest, most luxurious lotion I could find- letting the moisture soak into my exhausted skin.
And as I put the finishing touches on my morning, and prepared to walk out the door, I caught myself rubbing my newly soft hands together- taking a moment, just a moment, to notice.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt grace.
Grace for my body and grace for myself. With soft hands and a moment of grace, I let a few grains of expectation fall and for the first time in a long time, I felt love.
I’m not sure what it is about the end of the year, but it often brings on my perfectionistic tendencies, too. I expect myself to do way more than I can even though I’m commuting back and forth, traveling, trying to maintain all of my relationships…it seems like I’m spinning plates with one hand and juggling balls with the other. All that to say, this post hit home for me! Thanks for the reminder. I think I’ll go home tonight and use the new bath salts my parents got me for Christmas. I think I’ll journal about all the ways in which I’m awesome, because lately it’s all about how I fall short, why I’m not a good enough (insert “friend, girlfriend, daughter, Christian, employee, writer”). All of those are lies, I know. And yet it’s such an easy trap to fall into. It’s almost a comfortable place because it seems safer than sitting still, talking with God, and letting go of all of the expectations I have. Ah, lots to ponder, Stephanie! Thanks, as always!!!
I’m not sure what it is about the end of the year, but it often brings on my perfectionistic tendencies, too. I expect myself to do way more than I can even though I’m commuting back and forth, traveling, trying to maintain all of my relationships…it seems like I’m spinning plates with one hand and juggling balls with the other. All that to say, this post hit home for me! Thanks for the reminder. I think I’ll go home tonight and use the new bath salts my parents got me for Christmas. I think I’ll journal about all the ways in which I’m awesome, because lately it’s all about how I fall short, why I’m not a good enough (insert “friend, girlfriend, daughter, Christian, employee, writer”). All of those are lies, I know. And yet it’s such an easy trap to fall into. It’s almost a comfortable place because it seems safer than sitting still, talking with God, and letting go of all of the expectations I have. Ah, lots to ponder, Stephanie! Thanks, as always!!!
Thank you so much!! You’re so fantastic. What a beautiful comment and what sweet encouragement. Praying peace over your holiday season!
Love this one.
YES. Yes. yes!!!!
I’m in tears. I recently discovered your blog and somehow, somehow you have been putting up posts that strike me in deeper parts than words uttered by any close person could. I like writing a lot, but in hard times or after them, I tend to fear sitting at the computer and pouring my heart out on my blog – coz who cares anyway? But with you and this lovely blog, God shows me that He cares, and He understands, and He tells me “you are not alone, I am here with you. ” He also teaches me how to be a good writer and think about what I want to say and structure it. Thank you for the blessing that you have been , are and will continue to be for so many young women. Thank you for your vulnerability and openness and for listening to the voice that tells you to write. Your writing is annointed, it is real, it reflects the story of so many lives and the ups and downs in them, and it points us to God. You are Amazingness! God bless.
I’m in tears reading this!! Thank you so much for such a beautiful comment. It’s such confirmation and encouragement for me. All my love!!