Slaying the Giant of Perfectionism

I was born a perfectionist and raised in a structured home. We were taught how to behave and we didn't really challenge that. We fell into line. It worked and so I raised my first two children with the same parameters. I'm not going to lie, there were times when I thought I was crushing the parenting thing. (I was humble enough to know that parenting is a long job and something can happen at any time but I thought structure, clear expectations, and love were all it took.) 

My older children and I are neurotypical. My youngest son is not. (Structure, clear expectations, and love are NOT all it takes for A LOT of kids.) 

 My perfectionism is not good. It tied my stomach in knots for more school tests than I can count. It has kept me from taking chances and trying new things--what if I don't succeed? Its expectations for myself are impossible. In my perfectionism are a million comparisons beginning with everyone else's success and ending with my failure. 

And so, my youngest son-the one who is instantly overstimulated in any environment other than our home-struggles and it feels, to this perfectionist, like I haven't done enough. I want to tell everyone, "He is TRYING. I promise he has come so far already! And I am TRYING. Every minute, I am trying."

I have wished my perfectionism dead for a very long time. Perhaps this one boy, who is brilliant and coordinated and funny and tender and uniquely different, will be used to heal me. Perhaps, in practicing radical acceptance of his circumstances, I will learn to let go of this plague of perfectionism. I'm not saying all these things in search of compliments of any kind. I know I'm trying and that is enough. I'm sharing because I cannot tell you the amount of people who have reached out to me since I began opening up about our journey. You are not alone in your struggle. Fred Rogers said, "Anything that's human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable." 

 Every moment with my nontypical guy is an opportunity to shed rigidity and replace it with compassion. Every moment is a chance for me to see another struggling parent and know that it may very well have nothing to do with how hard she's trying. I wish I learned this sooner. The Lord has quite the way of growing humility in us.