I recently heard someone say “by September I’m going to have to lose a stone in time for my holiday”. I’m sorry to say that was me and no, I’m not having a mid-life crisis.
Why do some of us have an incredible knack of not being happy with who we are? Why aren’t we comfortable in our own skins? What are we lacking that makes us strive to be who we aren’t?
How the media have messed with our minds and tried to convince us all that we have to be a certain size, live in a certain area or type of house, earn a certain amount of money to be happy. There seems to be a long list of criteria that in some way I don’t fit.
So that brings my thinking along a little further down this road in relation to myself. I may not conform to a lot of what society says I should, I may differ in my thinking on certain things, I may live alone and be happy-ish living that way (until Prince Charming knocks on the door obviously) but I am who I am.
As I have been writing this… it has dawned on me… I actually quite like me. I like the fact that I don’t conform to some things. I like that I do to others. I love that I have a strong faith that I am completely unashamed of. The great upside of not having family is that I can have long lazy Saturday mornings doing exactly what I like and when I like. I am quite partial to nipping to the cinema without having to worry about others or just go out for a nice long walk on a whim. I am even happy that today with my broken toe I had the mickey taken at work all day, because as we all know, you only tease those you care for. I love the fact that I am not perfect. I do believe after all that “I am perfectly imperfect”.
Wouldn’t it be great if I could have told my 18 year old self to embrace my perfectly imperfect self? How much angst would that have saved over these years?
At 40 something who cares if I need to be slightly thinner… I’m going to go on holiday perfectly imperfect and enjoy it!