I don’t know what it is about Texas. Maybe it’s the warmer weather, or maybe it has nothing to do with Texas at all. Maybe it’s me. I’m maturing. But I feel more and more comfortable to let others see me “not at my best.”
I’ve gone to the hospital in the middle of the night with the neighbor. No makeup. Messy hair. Tshirt and sport shorts. It was gloriously not attractive.
I go out more often with straight hair. And I don’t care who sees me.
I take my daughter to school before I’m ready. Now, hear me out. I used to always, ALWAYS get ready (clothes, hair, and makeup) before taking my girls to school. Now, I often take my girl with my hair pulled up into a messy bun. And sometimes – heaven forbid – I’m still in my sleepwear. But when I say this, I never, ever get out of the car. I just drop her off and then head back home. I do have boundaries!
I’m not getting sloppy. I still care about my appearance. I’m just getting “comfortable.”
And it feels good.
It feels good to not have to look perfect all of the time.
It feels good to answer the door and know that I have no makeup on, but I can still be myself. It feels good to know people will accept me, knowing that they have seen multiple sides of me….not just my best.
I feel like I’m enjoying life more. I’m enjoying myself more.
These are just moments. Moments where it doesn’t matter as much if I’m in my best clothes and my hair is just right. They are moments where I’ve decided to ease up on my expectations of myself. Life has gotten busier, and I’ve decided that I don’t want to wear myself out more than necessary.
So, I’ve prioritized.
You know what? I like the new me. I like the prioritized “me.” Why did it take me so long to understand that I didn’t have to wear makeup to drop the kids off at school? No one even sees me, for heavens sake!
We are so hard on ourselves. These things may seem silly to some of you, but to others – you understand. You know the pressure we can put on ourselves to have it all together.
But when we can break down the absurdity of some of the expectations we put on ourselves, we can give ourselves permission to be “raw.” To be real. To be slightly wrinkled, tousled, and HUMAN.
It can be very loveable. It can be very endearing.
It can remind us, that underneath it all, we are ALL imperfect. And that’s okay.