Picture Perfect

One of my first memories of fighting with perfection is from when I was in middle school. My social studies teacher asked us to draw a picture of the USA. We had to outline all of the states and label them. I worked on that picture for days. Every state was outlined and labeled, even those tiny north east states. It was great, but it wasn’t quite perfect. How could I make it perfect? Outline it with a marker! Bingo! Then it will all stand out and look PERFECT!

Wrong.

All wrong.

It looked awful. Well, at least to me it looked awful. All those beautiful, tiny, north eastern states I had so precisely drawn looked like a big marker mess. North Carolina looked more like a rectangle than North Carolina. Poor little Hawaii looked like little polka dots out in the Pacific Ocean. It was just sad. So, the night before it was due, I ripped it up, threw it away, then stayed up several hours working on a new one. It was no where near as great as the first before the marker destroyed it. But, whatever. I was done. I was over it.

The next day, I turned it in. Mrs. Chestnutt said it was great and even hung it in the hallway with some other good ones. Every time I walked by that picture, I cringed. All I could see were all of the imperfections. I hated it. It made me so mad and feel bad about myself.

My anxiety makes it so hard for me to look past my imperfections. I nitpick everything I do, even writing these blog posts. I pick it apart and analyze every little word. I’ll read my post multiple times before and after I post it to make sure it sounds perfect. It stresses me out to find a mistake. I worry that my thoughts aren’t coming out exactly the way I want.

I can’t tell you how many minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, that I have spent worrying about something that didn’t go as perfectly as I had planned (such as that drawing of the US).

This week, my husband was out of town with a bunch of kids from church taking them to camp. So, I was free to roam Netflix and watch all the girly stuff I wanted. Just an announcement: THE PRINCESS DIARIES IS ON NETFLIX, YALL!!! My inner 15 year old self was bursting with joy as I pressed play. If you have never watched it, here’s the basic story: Mia is a 15 year old dork who finds out she’s a princess. This 15 year old has to decide if she will be the princess and eventually take over the country. So much pressure on a 15 year old, right?

This is Mia’s speech at the end of the movie:

“Hi, um… hello. I’m Mia. Um, it’s stopped raining! I’m really no good at speech-making. Normally I get so nervous that I faint or run away, or sometimes I even get sick. But you really didn’t need to know that… But I’m not so afraid anymore. See, my father helped me.

Earlier this evening had every intention of giving up my claim to the throne. And my mother helped me, by telling me it was ok, and by supporting me like she has for my entire life. But then I wondered how I’d feel after abdicating my role as Princess of Genovia. Would I feel relieved, or would I feel sad? And then I realized how many stupid times a day I use the word ‘I.’ And probably all I ever do is think about myself. And how lame is that when there’s like seven billion other people out there on the planet, and… sorry, I’m going too fast.

But then I thought, if I cared about the other seven billion out there, instead of just me, that’s probably a much better use of my time. See, if I were Princess of Genovia, then my thoughts and the thoughts of people smarter than me would be much better heard, and just maybe those thoughts could be turned into actions. So this morning when I woke up, I was Mia Thermopolis. But now I choose to be forevermore, Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, Princess of Genovia.”

My favorite part of that speech is, “But then I thought, if I cared about the other seven billion out there, instead of just me, that’s probably a much better use of my time.”

What if I used all that time I spend worrying about my imperfections and stressing about something that doesn’t even matter and started using my time to help and pray for others? What if I started using that time to pray to God to use my life for his glory and actually start living that way? What if I stopped stressing about thing that were bad and instead praised God for all the good things in my life?

I know it’s hard. I know it is hard to “just stop” having anxiety. I know it is hard to redirect my thoughts. But redirection helps me.

Instead of stressing over that awful drawing, I could be grateful that I had time for a second chance. Instead of worrying about every little word in my blog posts, I should be thanking God he has given me this opportunity to reach out to others!

I love for things to be picture perfect. My apartment, my car, my hair, blog posts, everything. But is it really that important? No. Is one typo going to make God stop loving me? Of course not. Is worrying about every little thing going to make it all perfect? Absolutely not.

Again, I know it’s hard. Perfection is one of the biggest struggles I have with my anxiety. Wanting things to be perfect is not a bad thing. But, it is also not the most important thing. What is important is to trust God and try your best.

Instead of worrying, redirect your thinking. Try thinking of ways you can help others. We all have strengths and weaknesses. Someone’s weakness may be your strength! Use your God given talents and strengths to help others! Talk with others who struggle with anxiety and depression and encourage one another!

We all need help, let’s help one another.

God, you are so great and so awesome. Please remind us that only you are perfect. Help us to trust in you everyday and always try our best. Give us encouragement to use our gifts to help others. Help us to love you and love others better everyday. Amen.

AMS