So as American, we all seem to have this thing in our culture: the expectation of a perfect life. We get to pick what that is, but it usually ends up being the well-paying successful career with the perfect soulmate partner, fabulous vacations, fabulous children, fabulous (insert desire here….), etc. etc. Or maybe it’s not cultural and it’s just me?
I always thought that if I did all the right things (be kind to animals and children, get my degree, work hard, vote, be a good friend, etc. etc.) that everything would just come to me. Good karma and all that. It didn’t. (Maybe my good karma was ruined by call centers and the inventor or the telephone tree, stellar inventions to make people completely lose it.) My guy never showed up, I may not be able to have children at all, my career (ugh) and my finances are not so hot. So after doing everything “right” (I thought), why did I end up here?
I think I realized my lesson, finally. I am a perfectionist with completely unrealistic life expectations. I believed that I am somehow flawed and a complete screw-up for not having my perfect life. After all, if I was more skinny, pretty, smart, polished, happy, athletic then surely I would have everything I wanted. As I write it, I realize how silly it sounds. And I realize that my life is not perfect and my expectation that it should be is killing me. My life is not perfect, and that’s ok. Deep sigh of relief.
And yes, I got a puppy. He’s still at the breeders, nearly the identical of the picture from my last post. The little guy snuggled up in my lap and wiggled his little but against my stomach and I was a goner. I pick him up in a couple of weeks when he’s 8 weeks old.
Thanks for all of you comments!