I am learning to be patient with myself.

In the process of transition, I find myself making many mistakes out of haste. Costly mistakes that I literally catch minutes (maybe even seconds) after I’ve already committed money to them, which then leads me to invest more time, energy and money to redo/ undo them.

When I make these careless mistakes, I get deeply upset with myself.

This is a part of my humanity that I have never been able to embrace.

It is a part of me that I try to hide away by frantically seeking to erase any record of it.

It is a part of me that causes me deep shame.

But in reality, it is one of the most human parts of me: imperfection.

Intellectually, I know that no one can get it right 100% of the time, that as hard as we work or try or strive, we are bound to make mistakes. I also know that these mistakes hit hard for those who care deeply (about everything), and that these mistakes are more likely in exactly these times: times of transition, times of exhaustion, and times where I am devoting all of my energy to supporting others and neglecting time to pause and care for myself.

In these times, my energy and rhythm becomes frantic. I am not my best self. Then, I berate myself for not being my best self when I feel like I “most” need to be.

I am realizing that this self-flagellation has a deep impact on those who love me the most. My family and closest friends have been on a campaign (noticeably recently, but likely for years) urging me to be kinder to myself, and allow myself the grace of my humanity. They constantly remind me that who I am is enough, that what I do is a lot and that my own brand of quirky humanity is one of the things they love most about me.

I have a hard time listening to them even though I know they’re right. It’s hard when I’m part of a society and a profession that has socialized me to expect perfection from myself. I find it easier to challenge that expectation when it comes to holding space for others, but it is so hard when it comes to holding space for myself.

There isn’t a happy ending or resolution to this particular blog post. This is very much still a work in progress. I know from my therapist that my ability to give grace and show patience towards others is limited by my ability to do so for myself. I even feel badly about not making progress “fast enough” in this area. I know it’s all related, and perhaps seeing it in writing can be a step in moving past it.

If you’re like me, I hope we can learn to be more patient with ourselves together. If you hear me beating up on myself, remind me of my humanity, and of my contributions and the beauty in the imperfections of both.