By 
It’s really not THAT different from thirty.
However, this time I’m in pink tulle again, but with a plate a delicious pasta in hand and absolutely nowhere else to be.
Oh and did I add my kitchen is now complete?
My birthday has always signified the end of something old and the beginning of something new, starting as a kid in school, leaving my summer behind, going into a new school year. I would assume most birthdays are as such, time to reflect, a time to regroup.
Last year was incredibly significant as it truly tested my sanity; my ability to remain calm despite feeling out of control. I started to find peace with what was and I am happy to report that mindset has continued to blossom. As a self-proclaimed recovering perfectionist, I realize perfectionism doesn’t have an exact end date, but it does start to ware and I am honestly tired of jumping through the hoops I have been setting up for myself my whole life.
This year was a great test to that.
There were a lot of hellos and a lot of goodbye’s. I’ve lost loved ones, time with friends and family and I am currently in the middle of parting ways with my employer of six years. There have been many setbacks; some I have shared, some I have not. But fortunately many good additions have came through as well, my marriage to Arthur being the most important one of all, my mother’s recent move to California, our new girls we love so very much, our home finally coming to fruition and of course, my private practice / transition into becoming my very own boss bitch.
Last year around this time I was so focused on the task at hand; surviving the excitement and stress of a wedding, a move, a moment I didn’t want to miss any single part of.
But after all that hit, in the most perfectly imperfect way, the real test appeared. Can I sustain the bar I have set, can I really choose peace over perfection, can I really sit with my authentic self long-term?
The answer in the simplest terms is yes. But it’s more complex than that, the work is still there, like any other practice.
One big example of this happens right here. I love this blog, it means everything to me, but I realized it’s not worth risking my day to day wellbeing to meet a standard I have invisibly set for myself. The honest truth is that I absolutely love the entire process of bringing my visions to life. From conception to planning, sourcing to creating; the capturing is a whole thing in itself. But there have been too many times I have bent over backwards in ways that just don’t serve me. Either I will ruminate over ideas, excessively troubleshoot all the details, all things that lead to beautiful outcomes. The only problem is, this is a lifestyle blog. I am sharing highlights from my life, while also trying to live it.
This blog is a place for me to showcase the beauty I see in the world, to tell stories, to share the things that make me happy, the things that matter. But it is curated, it’s life editorialized. So with that I have to make a more conscious effort to decrease the weight I put on myself to make things happen perfectly. I have to take care of my soul, remind myself this is a happy place, with no room for judgement, criticism and worry to reside.
As a result, I’ve had to set some boundaries about how I share, what I share and the impact this all has on me enjoying my time. It’s not a fully foolproof plan, but it tremendously changed the way and reason I do things, without sacrificing my excitement along the way.
So when you browse through beautiful images, carefully curated content I absolutely love creating, please know I work incredibly hard to manage the pressure and anxiety I put on myself to make it. I used to tell my friends about how freeing it was to finally say “no” to people but this year I’ve learned how to say “no” to myself.
Except when there’s pasta.
