Oh the places you'll go.

Life is a constant push and pull of expectations; your expectations, the expectations of others on your behalf, and somewhere in the middle, the reality of what is. A recent trip to Boston to visit some dear college friends has gotten me thinking about where I was, and where I'll end up, about what I have, and what seems to be missing.

Four years ago, I stood on the precipice of college graduation. At that juncture, I was also taking stock of what I had accomplished over the previous four years. I had gleaned an incredible group of friends, friends that will stick with me I think, until we are all (hopefully) old and wrinkled. Through many classes, mentors and late nights in the studio, I earned a degree with honors in studio art and an awareness of how essential art and the making of it is to my being. And, through some tough times emotionally, I also began to understand that perfection as a life goal (in all its forms) is not only unachievable, but extremely damaging to ones sense of self worth.

For all that I learned however, college was also a time of loneliness and longing for someone to love me, Trina. To think I was beautiful, to laugh with me, to hold me. It seems a trivial thing looking back on it. That I would waste so much thought and effort on one thing, that I was not able to see the wealth of people around me that already met those needs, what a shame. At the time, I didn't have faith that I would find someone, and at times, I thought I didn't deserve to.

Wouldn't you know it though, not two years after I graduated (and after I managed to sort out my head a little), I met GC. Now, it's like my good friend (who also recently became engaged to a great guy) said, "I wish I could go back and tell my 20 year old self to relax!" Enjoy what you have right now! Soak up the friendships, the laughter, the scent of the studio. Appreciate what you are, a single college student with great friends building a strong foundation for life.

Relaxing it seems however, is one of those things I think I will always struggle to keep in check. Some might note, that just having to keep relaxation "in check" rings trouble. Now, with the GC firmly and lovingly by my side (in spite of minor meltdowns along the way), I have found a new burden to hold against myself, meeting the expectations of myself, and those I imagine others have for me.

Unfortunately, the lesson I was taught in college about perfection didn't sink all the way in. I seek to take on all aspects of my life without faintness of heart in one. I must be the quintessential homemaker, managing all the details of my new domestic life. I must be the super handy home repairer, not afraid of a drill, a dryer installation, or the hanging of pendant lights in the kitchen. I must be a wedding planner who never falters and who has all the details ironed out and executed perfectly on time. I must be lover and "at home" girl, hostess, cleaner, organizer, new home set'er upper. And in no area, can I accept less than a stellar performance. Or, at least this is what I tell myself.

And that's just the thing, no one but Trina is putting this pressure on herself. In fact, most are saying, "Slow down, enjoy this part, relax, stop being so hard on yourself." But what they don't hear is the kid inside me trying to prove that, "I can do it! Watch me show you I can do it! You'll be so proud."

So now I am faced with a decision. I can either let the urge to prove myself perfect ruin what I have right now, or I can just do the best I can. No, not even the best I can, good enough for now. Of course, the correct answer is the latter, but you try telling that to the voices in my heart. It's about letting go. It's hard. Really hard. It means giving up control. But right now, the fear of losing this time, this moment, the feel of our new house, my new life, our new life, is greater.

Maybe this means the lesson wasn't quiet so lost on me as I originally thought. Maybe recognizing early on, repeated unhealthy behaviors and keeping them "in check" is a really good place to start. Something tells me only time will tell.