I wonder what relationships would be like without the expectation of perfectionism.
Most of us say that we don’t expect our loved ones to be perfect, but only a few of us are telling the truth.
Online, like on Facebook, we are constantly praising our love ones….raising them up on a pedestal before our friends and family. And, others are also doing it.
I wonder what type of social implications this has?
A lot of people in relationships expect their loved one to be able to make them happy. In America, we are all happiness-orientated anyway, so this isn’t much of a surprise.
Sometimes, when our loved one fails to consistently make us happy, the relationship is severed, a divorce happens, and a family is broken.
we didn’t rely on our spouses to be perfect? What if we expected them to mess up, to make us exasperated, and to even become a little boring?
instead of having such high expectations for our partners, we had high expectations for ourselves?
Holding ourselves to a higher standard of loving and giving?
I think it was in the book, Eat, Pray, Love, where I read a response to the authors research. ( I hope I’m not wrong)
A primitive woman, living in modern times, in an old world village, said, “He’s JUST a man.”
He’s just a man.
Say that out loud. Think about it.
That man ( or woman) is just that. He or she is no supernatural being blessed with supernatural powers. He or she, as “perfect” as he or she is, is blessed with their own faults and imperfections.
When my husband did his last tour in Iraq, I missed him SO very much.
I missed his extremely annoying, very random, snoring. I missed his stupid shoes and clothes on the floor. I missed him interrupting my sentences.
All the above are things that drive me crazy. But when he was gone…I actully missed them. And when he came back, I let it go. Stopped arguing so much about his messiness.
Because, ultimately, I love him, and I want all of him. Imperfections included.
When Chris was in Iraq, he dodged death. Yes, this is true. He left his trailer in the middle of the night to walk to the latrine. He had to walk quite a bit to get to it. While he was gone, his trailer was hit by mortar file and his roommate was severly injured, and eventually medically discharged due to loss of his limbs.
I learned this after he returned, because he kept if from me while he was there.
Everytime I think about it…I get goose bumps.
Some of us say we have no regrets. I don’t believe you. Because if Chris died then, I would have so many regrets. I would regret my bossiness. My constant drive for perfection and cleanliness. I would regret all our petty arguements. And so much more.
Does your love one seem to let you down a lot? I am in no way referring to big things, like cheating, or lying constantly. I mean those little things that create huge arguements.
Let it go…Seriously. If your arguing because he’s a messy…well, stop wasting your breath. Because his clothes will never make it to the hamper, and his keys, cell phone and other random junk will never make it to their designated spot. Take a deep breath….and use your talent as the “clean one” to put it away. Treasure it…..cuz , my friends, we don’t live forever. You’ll miss picking up after him or her one day.
You WILL miss being able to care for your partner one day. Trust me.
He’s just a man.
maybe those older women, living in primitive villages, have got it right. No one is spotless. No one is perfect. We are all just ourselves.
My grandmother is leaving for Portland in 3 weeks. Because I love her, I am so happy and excited for this new journey. I’m excited and hopeful that my cousins will get to know the grandma that I know and had the blessing of growing up with.
But I’m also plagued with regrets. For not calling enough the past 4 years. For not visiting nearly enough.
I’m so disappointed in the granddaughter I’ve been.
And, so, my grandmother will leave this tiny little town and find happiness far away, among a large bunch of family who loves her just as fiercly as we do here.
What a blessing. And now, I am honored and blessed to spend the next few weeks with her.
Why are grandmas so incredibly wise?
While helping my grandma separate her belongings, she said, ” This is all my junk. No one wants me to keep it. It doesn’t really mean much to you. But its mine. Its all my own junk.”
Some of the “junk” is little crafts made by her granddaughters. A birdhouse made by her late husband and my grandpa, Papa John. A picture of Papa John, and pictures of her family. Other little knick knacks. Her “junk.”
My grandma knows that her sentimental things only matter to her. And maybe, somehow thats just it.
My high expectations, really only matter to me. No one else in the entire world really cares about my high standards, not the way that I do. So instead of trying to keep it all,
Instead of trying to enforce every single standard that matters to me….I need to just pick a few.
We need to just pick a few. The special ones. The really important ones. The ones we absolutely need to live and love freely. We’ll pick through all our “junk” and keep only what is special and dear to us.
The rest….we’ll let it go.