I was invited to a dear friend’s home the other day and she kept on apologizing for the mess. In every room, I was offered a confession for the supposed sin of imperfection. There were a few dishes, some unfolded undies laying askew in the floor by the laundry basket, and a bit of food left on the stove. I could not have cared less. I was there to catch up and hear about her life, not judge her space in which her everyday thrives. Her tired eyes spoke more than her sincere apologies and it was then that I knew: she was trying and felt like her effort was failure.
Lord knows I know that feeling. Those days when no matter what you do, it is all still wrong. Those days when you don’t measure up to your unattainable standards. Those days when the harshest words you hear are the ones you whisper to yourself. Those days when your sorry doesn’t say so much about an apology but says more that you feel like you yourself are a sorry individual.
Sisters, we do not have to live like this. Stop beating yourselves up. We are women who try and sometimes fail. This does not make us failures. We are women who say we are sorry. This does not make us sorry people. Let your laundry lay on the floor. Leave the spilled cereal on the table. Let the dog in, muddied paws and all.
Breathe deep. You are NOT sorry. You are fierce and brave and wonderful. And LOVED.