Perfection

I am so laid back that I never thought I was a perfectionist.
I am probably not an amazing breed of perfectionist, but I have it in my DNA.
As I am learning more about myself, and what truly matters in life.
I realize this perfection obsession is going to kill me, my joy, my dreams, my smile, its killing it.
I can’t keep waking up unhappy in my skin because I am not perfectly thin, perfectly organized, perfectly beautiful, intelligent and on and on.
The perfectionist see’s all the ways I am failing always failing.
Never seeing the ways I am NOT failing.
I can’t be a perfectionist anymore.
I can’t function with the fear that I am failing, that I am not enough.
Being a perfectionist makes me a bitter, angry, selfish, complaining, neglectful women.
No more.
I am enough.
In my weakness, when I rise, My God is shown to be strong. Because I know that in me alone there is nothing strong. It is Him in me that is strong. I will always tell of how his strength took away my anxious, empty, exhausted, afraid, perfectionist heart, and made it joy filled again.
Fully Living.
With Joy.
At Peace.
Thankful.
Enough.

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