I heard these lyrics the other day, and I immediately started to cry.
Before, you even say it, yes, a lot of things make me cry, but this, this was a different cry, even for me.
‘Love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections’
– All of Me, John Legend.
How perfect is that?
I will admit however, that prior to this song, I had no idea who John Legend was.
Or maybe I did, I don’t even know.
The point I’m trying to make is that people aren’t perfect.
I’m not perfect.
Gasp! Such a revelation, I know. (insert eye roll)
It’s taken a long, long time for me to shed my tough exterior and accept that.
The revelation came to me years ago, but I held on.
I held on to the idea that I could be the one who was not only perfect, but the one that had the perfect life to go with my oh-so-perfect attitude.
But we’re not perfect, are we?
There are perfect imperfections in all of us.
I’ve had moments when this has been so glaringly obvious, but none like my days as a mother.
Parenting is like a punch in the face. In the most rewarding way, of course.
Parenting has brought me down a notch, so to speak, on many levels.
Maybe even a few notches.
Okay, fine – a lot of notches.
The point being, that parenting has made me far, far from perfect, and I couldn’t be more thankful.
You see, my kids have taught me the art of being humble.
Nothing humbles you faster than having to apologize to your children time and time again for being an asshole. All while snot is running down your face from the ugly cry you’ve been doing since realizing you were behaving like said asshole.
So, yes, I’ve been brought down a notch or two, maybe even ten.
Humility has been the key to living a life that is free. Free from all the self-condemnation. Free from all the constant pressure I put on myself for years and years. All of that made me hard. Callous even. Cynical for sure.
The art of being humble is complicated though.
According to the internet, it involves being less self-absorbed in a world that relishes in self.
It means being assertive and strong, while not being aggressive. It does not mean being a doormat.
It involves celebrating and truly loving others, while celebrating yourself with grace.
Humility means having a realistic view of who you are, even when others tell you you’re awesome possum!
But we’re not perfect, and maybe not even as awesome possum as others tell us.
We’re full of perfect imperfections.
And it’s okay.
Humility allows me the freedom to look my children in the eye, after yet another mom-meltdown, tell them I love them, and most importantly, apologize to them for my behaviour.
Then it’s at that exact moment that they choose to teach me yet another lesson.
A lesson in grace.
They unconditionally love and unconditionally forgive.
They forgive without hesitation and without a second thought.
And it’s humility that allows me the freedom to accept their love, their grace and to forgive myself.
Humility. Love. Grace.
Three words that have changed my life, my heart, my soul.
Three words that allow me to love all the perfect imperfections life has to offer.
Perfect imperfections. How absolutely perfect.
And now, it’s the perfect time for me to google John Legend – I can’t help but feel like I’ve been missing out on something there.