It’s perfect for the work you do, for the struggles you walk through, all the ways you mother & love. It’s even perfect for your body.
Good enough is perfect.
And you are good enough.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
Five years ago, I became a mama. Two years ago, I lost my own mom. And a year and a half ago, I said goodbye forever to a part of myself when I had a hysterectomy.
Perfect? I think not.
Flashes of perfect moments, maybe, and tastes of greater promises. I’ve been journeying through grief, oh so many different kinds of grief. All at once. Two years since that greatest loss, watching my mom take her last breath, and I now know that I am through the worst of the pain. You never think you will be, while you’re drowning in it, but then one day, you can breathe again. And then breathing becomes easier & easier. And loving, and laughing, and living, come easier too.
Good enough is perfect.
Because that ultimate perfection is not going to come today or tomorrow. It’s a promise, but not one for now.
When I look down at this scarred body of mine,
I’m finally feeling good enough.
I used to see the scars and stretch marks and fat as flaws. I accepted that many of them were simply results of necessary surgeries. An uncomfortable reminder of the challenges I walked through. Some people are proud of their scars & stretchmarks. Some people think that they are symbols of strength & resilience. To me, now, they are just a part of my new mind & body that sees good enough where there used to be flaws.
And when I’m standing in the gym talking & laughing with my mama friends, we can each shrug off our insecurities about our not-flat tummies. We point at the different spots our babies sat and maybe we have a fleeting desire for our old slim bodies, but it passes quickly. Each mama brought their babes into the world and these bodies of ours reflect that. We’re good enough.
And good enough is perfect.
Loss has a way of teaching you what’s really important.
And how not to take people for granted. But that doesn’t mean you don’t still make mistakes. In the mess of everyday mamahood, I still get tired & lose my patience, and I still need breaks from our one & only son, even though I know how much a precious gift he is. I still sometimes find it hard to pull people close, even when I know how quickly we can lose each other. But I keep trying.
And that nasty voice within my depression, that told me everyday that I couldn’t do this. That I couldn’t be a good mama, that I was worthless & awful & didn’t deserve to be here… it doesn’t have much of a voice now at all. In fact, if it starts to speak up, I call it a liar and throw the truth back at it. I AM GOOD ENOUGH.
And good enough is perfect. Every. Day.