Who We Are At Our Messiest

I am and always have been the “mom friend”. You know, the one who has wet wipes and bandaids within arm’s reach any given moment, and the one you can rely on to make plans and actually follow through with them. For as long as I can remember, reliability has been a huge part of who I am as a person and, the wild part is, I used to be really proud to identify with that side of my personality. I thought being reliable made me special or different, or even better than everyone else around me because I was going above and beyond what other people my age were doing. But boy, was I wrong about that one. It’s taken me close to 30 years and becoming a caregiver to realize that the ultra-responsible attitude I used to cling to isn’t a cute quirk, it’s a trauma response to growing up with a messy family life.

My childhood was mostly normal, but my mom has never had perfect health and that was something I was very aware of growing up. She’s been a type 1 diabetic since the age of 11, and like so many other diabetics, has struggled with depression at times. As the oldest daughter I felt it was my place to help out around the house as often as possible to attempt to lift some of life’s responsibilities off of her shoulders. But over time those helpful intentions warped into something much bigger- Unhinged perfectionism. For years I tried so hard to meet the needs of others around me that, for a while, I completely lost who I was, and I don’t think it really hit me just how far down the perfectionist rabbit hole I’d gone until the beginning of this current and very messy season of life as mom’s full-time caregiver.

As much as we try, being a caregiver for anybody is SO MESSY. I mean, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. Most days I still try to show up as that “mom friend” who has a bandaid at the ready, but there is absolutely no room left for perfectionism. I’ve got a rock solid morning routine, but at least 2 days a week I still forget to change out of my pajamas until noon, and sometimes I just need a few minutes to scream into a pillow when I feel overwhelmed with medical bills and appointments, and that’s okay. (I can’t stress enough how much just typing “that’s okay” feels uncomfortable to me, but here’s to a new chapter of me!)

Learning to embrace my current and very messy season of life was my goal from the beginning, but what I didn’t expect was to genuinely start enjoying it. Me, enjoying a mess? I know, it sounds like a fairytale to me too, but when I dropped the idea of being perfect for others I discovered a lot more room left for me, my creativity, and doing things that bring me happiness. I used to be of the mindset that work came first and enjoyment last, but as you can imagine the work as a caregiver never actually ends, so why not find that enjoyment now? This realization has been one of my biggest takeaways from my caregiver journey over the last year- That work and enjoyment can exist simultaneously, even if circumstances are far from perfect.

No matter what season of life we find ourselves in, we shouldn’t have to wait until we have the perfect job, health, or material things to enjoy where we’re at. There’s no magic box to check off that’s going to bring enjoyment into our lives, so sometimes it’s best to just put the pen down and forget the list for a while. Whether you’re a caregiver or not, the human experience is really messy and how we choose to show up in the face of that mess can set the tone for that particular season of life. And, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather tackle my mess while singing and dancing than stressing over how many boxes I’ve checked or being “perfect”.