It Doesn’t Have to be Perfect

So as the Bronxie and I were driving the other day, we were chatting, as we do, and he pointed out that he hadn’t seen a blog post in a while.

I got immediately anxious because past baggage is past baggage, and I immediately started making excuses.

“I’ve started about 10 posts and they all suck.”

“We’ve been really busy.”

“I’m just so freaking tired when I get home.”

You know – the usual stuff I’ve been hiding behind for the last 20 or so years.

The Bronxie, being an intelligent creature, saw through the anxiety and called me on my bullshit…and yet it didn’t end in an argument, or tears, or an anxiety attack as so  many times I’ve been called on my bullshit have ended in the past.

Why, you ask?

He smiled. And he laughed. And he didn’t tell me I was being ridiculous, or irrational, or overly emotional.

He laughed, with exactly 0 malice behind it.

“Love, it’s a blog post, not Shakespeare!”

And he’s absolutely 100% right.

I’m not sure if it’s a manifestation of the depression or the anxiety, but my biggest stumbling block in pretty much whatever I do is “If it’s not perfect, it doesn’t go out.” I’ve ripped out blankets that are 75% finished because I found a mistake in row 6. I’ve paid to enter competitions and not turned in anything because I couldn’t get my entry “right”, thereby forfeiting my entry fee with nothing to show for it. I stopped practicing my calligraphy after my folks paid for a class for Xmas because I didn’t do it absolutely perfectly within the first few attempts.

I keep chasing perfection and failing miserably, then I stop doing things I want to do because it’s not perfect.

“It’s a blog post, not Shakespeare!”

This is one of thousands of reasons why I love my Bronxie. He can get me out of my own head without tripping an anxiety button, he lets me know I’m being ridiculous without being a rude demeaning asshole, and even when he’s calling my bullshit, it never feels like criticism or an attack.

He reminded me that the only way to be a writer is to write.

So fuck perfectionism. It doesn’t have to be perfect – it just has to get done. We have spell check and edit buttons for a reason.

It’s time to write – just write.

Thanks for the nudge, my Bronxie – I love you!

(not my graphic, I did not create this, but really -mood AF)

3 thoughts on “It Doesn’t Have to be Perfect

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