I have a confession

I have a confession to make. I’m not perfect. I never really thought I was, but sometimes (or a lot), I struggle with perfectionist tendencies. And then sometimes, I have a mini breakdown when I realize I can’t (or don’t) meet my own high expectations for myself.

A recent example made this abundantly clear to me. I’m pursuing a master’s degree, part-time, while I continue to work full-time. Sometimes it seems like I’m on the 40-year track, rather than the 4-year track to completion--it feels like I’ve been in class forever. The truth is that I only take classes part-time, never during the summer (when the classes are condensed to five-week sessions) and there have been semesters where I’ve had to drop a class or withdraw simply because I couldn’t manage the pressures and commitment to class (which run in 8-week installments) along with the pressures and commitment to work. And for some reason, work always comes first.

Lately I’ve been fueled with a recommitment to my program—the end is on the horizon and I’m determined to finish sooner rather than later (which means no more sacrificing school for work). This past month I’ve been faced with dueling priorities—an annual work event that I manage the majority of planning for, and the end of my fourth-to-last-class (and one that I had avoided taking for as long as I could!). I did great in the class until the last two weeks, which coincided with my large work event.

My work event was successful (but stressful!), and once again, my class work suffered. And I learned, again, that I’m not perfect. I could have planned ahead better, completed assignments in advance, and been a better time manager at the beginning of the course. (A little secret is that I often do my best school work under the dark cloud of procrastination.) But this time I didn’t pull through. Once I got over the shock of realizing that my 4.0 GPA was gone (which happened in both high school and college and was shocking and sorrowful then), I was determined to finish strong and complete all the required assignments. All in all I submitted the final 12 assignments late (all due during the last week of class), and the professor was generous enough to give me partial credit for some. But really, what I learned was that, it’s ok to not meet your own expectations. It’s ok to not be perfect. The earth keeps turning, the sun still rises.

I’m not a perfect student. I’m not a perfect employee. I’m not a perfect friend, or a perfect daughter, or a perfect sister, or auntie. I try my best, I often fail, and I’m certainly not perfect. And that’s ok. Because my goal shouldn’t be to be perfect.

My goal is to love others, to be a light for Christ, to work hard (oh, and to get that master's degree!).