Last Saturday night I had a revelation.
I was in the bathroom cleaning, scrubbing a mascara smudge off the sink and trying to scoot the ever-curious kitty cat off the counter, and I realized…
…it’s Saturday night, and I’m at home scrubbing the bathroom, and I’m…happy?
Now this is where some people would say that I’m old, but honestly, if learning to love a clean house and a night in my jammies is old, then I’m totally here for it.
But more than being “old” (which personally I think I’m not, thank you very much), there’s something else that I realized in this moment.
I realized that I wasn’t making myself feel sad for not meeting an expectation, or for not doing what I “should” have been doing.
It would have been so easy that night to be disappointed that I wasn’t out with friends, and that honestly I just didn’t have anywhere to go (unless I took myself on a date to Target, which wasn’t off the table). I could have felt embarrassed for not being out “living it up” like (seemingly) everyone else on social media. And I could have spent the night sulking, eating my feelings and weight in ice cream.
You see what was so significant about that moment is that I found myself not only enjoying something that wasn’t what “should” have been, but not STOPPING myself from enjoying it.
I’ve often struggled with perfectionism, and one of my greatest battles has been to give myself permission to be happy even when things aren’t as I, or even the world, believe they should be.
In the past, even if things were good I would push away the happiness if they weren’t as I imagined. I thought I wasn’t living enough or doing enough, so I couldn’t let myself enjoy.
If this is you, my friend, I pray you’ll learn to give yourself permission. When the happiness comes, when the pings of joy hit your heart, I pray you won’t push them away.
It’s ok to let yourself enjoy something that isn’t what you expected.
To let the simple monotony of life be good. To be happy with what is, instead of miserable over what isn’t, or what isn’t yet.
Give yourself permission.
And I’ll be here, scrub brush in hand, on a Saturday night, doing the same.
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