In our last post Holiday boldly declared that she and I have a certain disease. We would like to thank all of you for your prayers and concerns during this trying time as we seek treatment.
The disease of "Perfectionism" is one often mis-diagnosed as "If Only I Drink More Caffiene I Can Get It All Done by 1a.m.ism" (Holiday's closest diagnosis) or my personal favorite "Martha Stewart Wannabeism" (My current diagnosis). But seriously… we both know we have a problem and are working on it.
Just today I wanted to make an inspirational collage in order to prep myself for writing my new blog entry, but literally slapped the scissors out of my own hands screaming at myself "Valerie stop putting the cart before the horse dammit!!!". Not sure why I referred to myself in 3rd person, or thought making a collage of inspirational quotes would help me write better, (or the more important question why I thought writing was the "horse" and a collage was the "cart", I know totally random) but I did. Then I stopped. Then I poured a glass of wine and chilled the hell out. Then I wrote this in less than an hour.
Lately I have been happy. Reallllly happy. This has served as my mostly successful treatment so far for "Perfectionism".
You know the kind of happy I'm talking about - the kind that is normally only reserved for the best kind of new love, or really good sex, or a reallllllly good shoe sale. Where you are standing in line for groceries, and people are staring at you, and you think it's because they see you glowing from the outside in, but then suddenly you realize it's because you have blue toothpaste on the white t-shirt you are wearing (inside out as a side note) smeared all over your left boob. You are so preoccupied with the non-stop runaway train of happy thoughts tunneling through your head you didn't even notice or care the past 10 hours you have been wearing an inside out, tartar control crusted ensemble since you brushed your teeth. Come on, you know it's happened to you too because I know there is a DSW (Designer Shoe Warehouse) where shoes are always on sale in like every town in good ol' US of A.
And that's been me lately - not because of any of the three reasons stated above - unless new love refers to the way it feels when you are helping women who need only the kind of help and advice you can give. As someone who has been there, done that, and owns a closet full of "I got divorced and all I got is this lousy t-shirt" t-shirts. But instead of me getting stared at by strangers in a white t-shirt inside out, it was black leggings that even Good Will wouldn't take that has a gaping hole where the stitching has given out by the waistband and had not just blue but what appeared to be neon play dough smeared all over my right pant butt cheek. I have a 5 year old, stuff like that happens. A lot.
With all of the crazy positive changes going on in the lives of The Ex-Wives, I just can't stop smiling. Every time I turn on the radio that catchy song 'Happy' by Pharrell Williams is playing, and I feel like it's playing just for me. Everywhere I go birds are singing, and I feel like they're singing just for me. Every time I open my mailbox I am getting a postcard about "Double Points Month" or $10 off Birthday Coupons for DSW, and I know it's just for me (well that one because it's addressed with my name on it…).
I don't want to let go of this happy and I don't want to revert back to my old ways of thinking the bottom is going to fall out at any given moment. Because that is exactly how I felt in each and every one of my marriages. If I could have just been a little more "perfect" maybe one of my exes would have loved me a little more. I was consumed with trying to be perfect, because my marriages were farrrrrr from perfect (or happy for that matter). As in if you could hear some of the stories your mouths would drop and you would feel so bad for me you would give me your DSW coupon because you know you are allowed to combine more than one coupon there even on their super twice a year shoe clearance (It's true!!!!).
My 5 year old doesn't care if I'm perfect - hell he thinks perfect is when I let him eat a cookie for breakfast or when we wear pajamas all day. But you better bet he cares and notices if I'm happy. None of my friends care if I'm perfect - in fact they have been laughing for years at my imperfections which make me who I am. And laughing at me makes them happy, which in turn makes me happy. And if I am not happy, then watch out, because damn if my friends aren't going to pull out all the stops to bring a smile to my face (disco balls and wind machines have made frequent appearances as well as voo doo dolls….). My clients are wonderful and expect me to help them organize, but never "perfect" their homes or lives, which makes me even happier because I am a really crappy driller and if they ever really looked closely at the shelves I am putting up in their closets for them I am putting tons of extra holes in their dry wall.
And I challenge ALL OF YOU to find this happy. What we look for we often times seek - so stop looking at all that stuff that is only going to make you incredibly un-happy. Because if you close your eyes, and instead open your heart, you might join in on my tune. It's amazing what you might see, or where more importantly you might find yourself. My guess is somewhere that people don't give a damn about being perfect. Most likely you'll "Feel like a room without a roof-a".
I'm not letting go of this new found "Happy". This new happy is when a friend of a friend's co-worker calls me because she heard I was one of "The Ex-Wives" and is a "Divorce Expert" of sorts. This new happy is when I know deep down in my soul that God gave Holiday and I the ability to write, oh yeah and the same ex-husband, so that we could help millions of women with our book, our good energy, and our ability to help you get your groove back. This new happy is where I'm singing along as loud as I can not quite in-tune with my sunroof down through the Starbucks drive-through lined up 10 deep with cars because I know "What happiness means to you - hey hey hey".
Because if I am vulnerable enough to admit all the mistakes I have made, and do so to help others, I'd say I am doing just fine. Further, if I continue to put my everything into helping get rid of the stigmata that accompanies divorce or being a single mother, then life is better than fine it's good. In fact it is better than good, I'd say it is HAPPY. And if I didn't let 3 ex-husbands stand in my way of happiness, I am sure as hell not going to let "Perfectionism".
Love,
V (Valerie)
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