Beating ourselves up

Two things today made me think about how nothing on the outside really matters; all the false perfection and being on our best behaviour so we feel accepted, doesn't really matter at all.

First, was a comment I received from lattemommy on my previous post. About how she was busy getting her house ship-shape for her open day today. It made me think how we all de-personalise our homes when we want to sell, to present a sense of false perfection so someone will be enticed to buy.

Second, was when we were at a birthday party this afternoon, at the house of one of my mummy friends. No one had visited her house before so we were given a guided tour; we all gasped in envy at its enormity and newly built perfection. To her though, endearingly, she could only see how it was unfinished. She busily showed us the fabric for the curtains she was going to have, and the drawings for the fitted furniture she had on order. But you know what? As much as I would be exactly the same, when I was at her house it absolutely didn’t matter. I wouldn’t blink an eye if they were sitting on deckchairs and eating from a cool box. I like her family regardless of all that show stuff. Don’t get me wrong, if her house were rat infested I’d think twice about our friendship but aesthetic stuff just didn’t matter at all.

Which is hilariously hypocritical of me considering how much it matters in my own head. About the state of our house and how much I worry what people will think of mine. Will they notice how crappy my bathroom is? Will they notice there’s enough mould in there to cultivate a new species? Will they notice all the things I think are wrong, that are less than perfect, which need to be upgraded? Will they notice the coving in our hall that was never quite finished? I doubt it. And if they did, I hope they don’t care and realise we’re just doing the best we can.

That’s the thing you see, why do we go through life beating ourselves up about all the things we’re supposed to have and all the perfection we’re trying to present to the world? Why don’t we acknowledge our imperfections, instead of comparing ourselves to others and always coming out second? Why don’t we ever give ourselves a break, accept we are what we are. Accept that those who give a damn about us, well, they just won’t give a damn about any of that ‘stuff’.