Present Over Perfect

badly, awkwardly, sometimes too forcefully, and sometimes
with so many disclaimers and weird ancillary statements that
people actually had no idea what I was saying. I hovered
endlessly after I said it—Was that okay? Are we okay?
Because I love you—you know I love you, right? We’re
okay?
But like anything you learn, it gets easier over time. You
begin to build up muscle memory for what it feels like to
say exactly what you feel, what you need, what your
limitations are. And a very interesting thing begins to
happen: some people peer into your face with fascination—I
want some of that, essentially, is what they’re saying. Your
honesty and freedom is giving them the permission to be
honest and free as well.
And some people are not down with this way of living at
all. They’d prefer you continue over-functioning for their
own purposes, thank you very much. Or they’re so wrapped
up in their own hyper-functioning life that it’s a personal
affront to their value system when you say something insane
like, “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
Bless them. But don’t spend too much time with them.
Draw close to people who honor your no, who cheer you on
for telling the truth, who value your growth more than they
value their own needs getting met or their own pathologies
celebrated.
Our little Cooking Club—my day-to-day lifeline best
people—we’re cheering each other on along this journey,
and it makes all the difference. We talk every day, usually