I’m done with the guilt. You should be too.

I had a whole list of “I would’s” before I became a mom.

I would never lose my temper.

I would be organized.

I would meal plan.

I would limit screen time.

I would do weekly crafts.

I would wake up early and work out before everyone woke up.

I would juggle my life, passions and motherhood and of course – nail it.

And then life happened. Quite frankly, motherhood happened.

Meal planning is deciding how much we can spend on pizza this week, organizing is throwing something in the general vicinity of where it belongs. I’ve got an extra 100 pounds I’m hanging on to like it’s the last man on earth, and screen time limits? Ha.

It’s stressful.

It eats away at you little by little.

It makes you feel inadequate and unworthy.

It brings upon comparison and guilt.

Dishes overflowing in the sink, yet again? Guilt.

Laundry piles so high it will take you a week to get through it all? Guilt.

Late to your daughter’s dance recital because you were at a baseball game with your son? Guilt.

Missing a field trip because of a sick kiddo at home? Guilt.

Baby won’t sleep through the night? Must be you, momma. Guilt.

Haven’t had a date night with the hubby in months? Guilt.

But, you only get one time around at this. You only get one chance to make this life everything you want it to be. You have to stop getting stuck behind the guilt that goes along with perfection. Because sister, YOU are in control. Even in the moments when you feel anything but.

And, can I be honest with you for a second?

You’re never going to be enough for everyone, but that’s OK. You’re human.

I don’t know about you, but I refuse to spend half my life striving for something that doesn’t even bring me joy. Because perfection isn’t so much something you desire yourself. It’s rooted in perception.

I feel the pressure constantly. My house should be cleaner, my kids should be better listeners, I should wear makeup more often.

I’ve often felt like something was wrong with me. I’m not happy with my dirty house, or my disheveled look, but I know where my time is being spent, and it’s not in making everyone else comfortable with ME or my house, or what I’m doing with my time.

Just the other day I walked into my kitchen with my makeup looking like Mimi and my nails wet and got so mad at myself to see this mess. Why am I wasting time when I could be cleaning this up?

But was my time really wasted? Or was it well spent?

My time is being spent making paper airplanes and cuddling while we watch the same movie for the 498th time.

It’s being spent painting and coloring or doing makeup and nails.

It’s being spent at the ballpark for multiple games, burning in the seven layers of hellfire heat.

I am OK with all of those ways to spend my time, and I refuse to feel any bit of guilt for not spending more time cleaning or pampering myself to make other people happy with how I’m managing my life or time.

Sure, everyone is entitled to their own opinion but when those opinions start affecting your own happiness?

It’s time to re-evaluate, momma.

From one friend to another, I don’t want your perfection. Leave that crap at the door. I want the momma’s who keep it real. I want the sisters and friends who don’t pretend to have it all together. I want the momma’s who are in the trenches with me – who aren’t afraid to share their truth, imperfections and all. I want the friends who show their messy and their broken and offer it up with coffee and a smile.

Because we only get one go around at this, and I’m done apologizing for how I choose to live my life; and you should be too.

Do you have a dream? A goal? Anything you’re waiting on doing because you are afraid you don’t have it “together enough”? Don’t let anyone tell you that and if they do, don’t feed into their opinions of you.

Your worth and well being isn’t decided by them. It’s up to you.

It’s your job to fulfill what you want to accomplish.

Want to become a foster parent? Do it.

Want to write a book? Do it.

Want to paint your living room?

Or dye your hair?

Or wear the crop top?

Freaking do it.

Who cares what people have to say about it.

No one has their shit all the way together. No matter how they may seem on social media or when you see them in Target. They are dealing with something.

Their house is a mess sometimes, their laundry is never done either. They haven’t showered today, and they may be wearing their “car pants” because they forgot theirs this morning.

You never know.

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