From around age 14 on, notebooks were my thing. I loved notebooks. I had dozens of them – spiral bound, bullet journals, composition notepads. Some with leather covers, some glittery, all… empty. I was always holding onto them for a “special” moment or theme, too worried about wasting them. My beloved notebooks sat blank because I was afraid I’d write the wrong thing and mess it up. In trying so hard to save them, I let the opportunity to enjoy them slip by.
Looking back, I wish I had filled every notebook and sketch pad to the brim, mistakes and all.
It’s bittersweet to think that I never truly got to enjoy the things I once cherished so much. I get sad thinking about all the ideas that could have made it on to paper if I had given myself the opportunity to make a mess.
Through therapy, I’ve made a lot of progress in moving past these perfectionist tendencies, but every now and then, I am confronted with them in a way that impacts my kids.
Last week I was going through my kids’ closets to remove items they have outgrown and came across a pair of Christmas pajamas from last year – tags still on, untouched. I never dressed my son in them because I wanted to keep them looking new, worried that snacks, snot, or dirt would ruin them. But in trying to “save” them for the right moment, they went unworn the entire holiday season – forgotten.
Waiting for the perfect moment is a trap – impossible to attain.
The “perfect moment” would have been seeing him wear out the knees from crawling around, eating his messiest breakfast, or wearing them to Kroger under a coat because they’re just so cute.
There’s work for me to do, and that work starts this holiday season with Christmas pajamas. Maybe we will even wear them to decorate cookies.
