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The lesson // The word

Fat Mum Slim /


Earlier this year I engaged a business coach. Yes, it’s as wanker-y as it sounds.

I’m not a very business-y person. I make decisions with my heart, and I feel ALL the feelings. This hobby of mine {blogging} ended up involving business decisions and I’m not very good at it. At all.

Back to the business coach. We were in the middle of our second session and she made the bold statement that she thought I was a perfectionist. Defensive me came out to play. Perfectionist? Not a chance. My kitchen bench is rarely tidy. My inbox is never empty. I’m frumpy and often grumpy. I’ve never seen the bottom of my laundry pile and I struggle to stick to a set task.

If there was anyone further from a perfectionist, it was me.

I almost wanted to reach down the phone line, grab her, shake her a little and tell her straight that she had me all wrong. It felt similar to the time I had counseling in my early 20s and the counselor called me by the wrong name for a whole session. Not much fun.

It was during the third session that I discovered something about myself. I WAS a perfectionist, or more like someone who strives for perfection but almost always ends up disappointed.

I’m not happy until my house is clean, like display-home clean. And it never gets there. Disappointment. I’m not content with my exercise routine unless it’s done 4 times a week for 45 minutes, every single week. I’m completely overwhelmed by my inbox unless the new email count is at zero, which it is once a year for around 3 minutes. You get the picture.

I’ve spent the past few months now working on my expectations of myself, and my constant strive for perfection, and the constant feeling of disappointment. Oh gosh, this is heavy for this time of year, isn’t it?

My coach gave me a word to focus on: fluidity.

Instead of wanting only perfection, and thinking it’s actually attainable, I’ve been working on taking each day as it comes and keeping my expectations and plans fluid.

What does that even mean? Well, I’m actually become OK with my house not looking like perfection {like a display home}. It doesn’t mean that it’s always a mess, but sometimes it’s not visitor-ready and that’s OK. Not all houses around the world are, and that’s perfectly normal, or acceptable. I try and exercise when I can {something I’m working more on}. And my kitchen bench is sometimes completely tidy, just not right now. And there’s the rest of my life, work, everything. Striving for perfection is exhausting and disappointing.

So 2015, my word for the year is fluidity.

May it bring calm, contentment and happy days.

What’s your word for 2015? Got one?