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Sometimes a girl just needs a change. AMIRIGHT? I was never wild about my last blog title. It wasn’t me at all. I am not simple and my life is far from blissful. There are many adjectives one could use to describe my life, but blissful would not be one of them.
Maybe I just need to alter my definition of blissful because my current picture of bliss exists only in the pages of magazines. Dreamy magazine spreads of a backyard cottage studio with a perfectly-aged stone patio, Adirondack chairs, and a lovely cutting garden that would serve to fill a bud vase for every room of my house. A little place where one is free to just relax and BE. I imagine a breeze carrying the sweet smell of blossoming trees through the air and wishing it would stay summer forever.
But that is not my life. My reality is far from blissful, and although it is pretty damn good in the grand scheme of things, most days I think, when will it get easier? Will I get it together before my daughter learns the truth that her mother is a basket case?
If I know me like I think I know me, I will always be a work in progress. I will always be trying to create the perfect version of me. And while I am a perfectionist and that notion often prevents me from trying new things in the first place, that is not what I mean here.
I want to be the kind of woman my daughter will be proud of, and I know I’m not there yet.
And just like redefining BLISS, I need to redefine PERFECT. I need to realize that things can be perfect just the way they are and stop searching for the well-styled magazine layout.
I hope you will come along for the ride.
Please excuse the mess…migrating and rebuilding, blah blah blah
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