It was the second time in two months that I'd been pulled over for a driving infraction, and although my record prior to these instances was nearly unremarkable, the hit stung hard.
After balling my eyes out in the car (my go-to method for stress relief), I texted Raleigh to tell him the news. I knew I couldn't yet talk about it, but wanted him to know.
He called shortly after I got to work, anxious to soothe the frazzled spirit of his frustrated and embarrassed wife. "It will be ok," he tried to convince me. "Really. It's just paperwork."
"I know, I know," I said flatly, still holding back tears. He could hear it in my voice. My pride was hurt and the checks on my mental checklist of how-this-mistake-is-going-to-cost-us was ticking off in my head.
In one quick sentence Raleigh cut to my core and reminded me why the morning's actions hurt so bad: "Sweetie, give yourself some grace. It's ok to fail."
Ouch. There it was.
I've always done well at succeeding--numerous awards during my school years, Valedictorian of my high school class, world travel as a curious and courageous college student, different accolades and promotions at work, home ownership at the young age of 21, leadership positions in various organizations and honors for volunteer work I've done. I've been a perfectionist for as long as I can remember, and anything I put my name to usually reflects those intentions. Yet I've also learned over the years one of the biggest motivators for me to do so well in so many areas of my life was/is a fairly big fear of failure. I didn't want to be wrong or not good enough, and so I did everything I could in my power to be right and/or "good enough" to be publicly praised and valued. It's silly, I know (no one is perfect and I'm loved anyways!) and yet it's something I work towards remembering each and every day. And as my partner, Raleigh knows this about me and lovingly draws my attention to this fact whenever I tend to forget.
Still, I found Raleigh's continued suggestion rather annoying:: "Remember, we want the boys to learn that experiencing failure is ok." (I know he doesn't mean to dig in an already sore wound, but really?!)
Sigh.
He's right. And the reminder is one I desperately needed to hear. I would have liked the trigger to be something a little less painful (no police officers involved, please), however it is what it is and I screwed up. That doesn't mean I have to beat myself up or crawl into a hole in shame (although I certainly felt like that was a reasonable option this morning), or that I am any less of a person, wife, mother, friend, daughter, employee, etc. because of my mistakes. And I am loved regardless.
So . . . it's time for one of those shifts in perspective:
Despite our hardships (and some of them have been HARD), Raleigh and I have maintained a strong and faithful marriage. I take pride in our choice to raise our boys as we are (they really are good kids) and how we're managing to "keep it together" despite the constant chaos and worldly stressors we regularly find loading our plate. On that same note, I can take pride in knowing what I am doing "right" even if I am quite unsure what I am doing half of the time and am screwing up the other half of the time. I am proud of our boys and use feedback we get from friends, family, and strangers alike that we're doing an ok job, and take the boys' efforts to offer forgiveness, help around the house, and their general happy and energetic demeanor as evidence that they're doing well and thriving under our care. My house is not the cleanest (by any means!), and I don't remember the last time I was able to get everyone's clothes folded and put away in closets and drawers. However, I do manage to keep clean countertops in the kitchen and toys are contained to the living room and the boys bedrooms (and bathtub and couch cushions and coat pockets--but that's another story). And I have a handle on laundry enough to guarantee there are clean clothes to wear somewhere in the house. My kids are generally well-behaved (at least in public) and seem to be hitting their developmental milestones on target. Not necessarily in this order, they also appear to be learning about love, forgiveness, Jesus Christ, what it means to be family, and how to resolve conflict. (That last one as of late has been the most challenging, with many efforts made to encourage healthy conflict resolution . . .) Our life is at this point in time at least, one of busyness and nonstop movement. Yet it is also one of great love and forgiveness.
So maybe these flashing lights are telling me more than to slow down and pay close attention to my (physical) surroundings. Maybe they are a humbling (and uncomfortable) reminder that I am not perfect. And more so, that I can forgive myself because I don't have to be.
ride the Waves. {a birth story}
3 years ago

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