I Am Flawed and I Am Perfect.

I decided it was time to get rid of the sparklers. No, I'm not talking about the hand-held fireworks that look beautiful in the dark. The sparklers I'm referring to do not benefit me in the dark whatsoever. I'm talking about those wiry, unruly, streaks gracing the top of my head. As I held my head over the tub and rinsed out the color that will camouflage those bits of undeniable age, my three year old son bounces into the bathroom and gasps.

"Mommy! WHAT HAPPENED? Mommy got ouchies in her head!" I laughed because it never occurred to me that the red water pouring from my head looked like blood to my brutally honest son. It also never occurred to me that having a three year old would somehow lift the veil and expose every. single. flaw. on my body. He came closer and started pointing out every blemish, every spot, every wrinkle, and every roll all while my head is upside down under the bath faucet, and proclaiming every new find with an ecstatic "Mommy got ouchie right here!" Yes, son... Mommy got ouchie. Big ouchie... now.

Then, it changed. I wrapped my hair in a towel and as I straightened up, my son wrapped his arms around me, kissed my leg, and out of nowhere says, "I love you Mom! Let's go play."

And it hit me. It doesn't matter how many "sparklers" I have on my head. It doesn't matter if I have a zit or a bruise or a roll. I am perfect to my son. And if I'm perfect to him, why can't I be perfect to me? The fact is, we are human. Our bodies are designed to be flawed. And that's okay. Let me tell you why.

I used to spend the better part of my days stressing about how un-perfect I am. I wasn't thin enough. My skin wasn't smooth enough. My hair wasn't thick/shiny/long/red/straight enough. If it could analyzed, I over-analyzed it. Do you know what that made me? Miserable. It made me [insert expletive here] miserable. Why do we this to ourselves? There is no reason in the world why we can't think of ourselves as beautiful and perfect and flawed. I refuse to spend my time making myself feel bad when there is so much out there that does that for me. Instead, I choose to empower and embrace the parts that make me who I am- flawed perfections and all.

So say it with me. "I am flawed and I am Perfect." And believe it.

Feel free to leave me a comment and let me know how you embrace your Flawed Perfections. 

The boy who tells you like it is. And I love him for it.

The boy who tells you like it is. And I love him for it.