Love, Hate and Strawberry Ice Cream

Let me tell you about this girl I know. She's kind of a witch with a 'b'. She says horrible things like "Obviously you can't get your stuff together and people are going to know what a failure you are." or "If you stop obsessing about being perfect it is because you are just giving up on yourself. Once you do that, you are going to be a fat slob with no family and no friends. Anyone who tells you that you are okay like you are is a liar and just waiting for you to be weak." She's really a downer and pretty horrible. I've tried to distance myself from her for a long time and even have tried to shut her up. She's so damn persistent. Obviously, she is me.

This is a pretty dark skeleton in my closet that only a couple people know about - well, until now. Getting this out in the open just proves that I am not perfect, and not just in a "oh, I get split ends too!" kind of way. It's in a messed up in the head, working on my stuff, lots of baggage kind of way. Not only that, but this is the one thing I hide most from Natalia. Why? Because I don't want her to somehow think it's okay to talk smack about herself the way I do. She's supposed to be a better version of me - not this "filled with sawdust and vanity" kind of me. 

Some people blame the media for posting unrealistic and photo-shopped images of women, airbrushed to perfection, but I know better. I don't want to be perfect because I want to be camera ready. I want to be perfect because I live with the constant fear that if I'm not, I will be rejected. It's exhausting and often gets the better of me. I'm writing about this now because I am up by 10 pounds and need a haircut. I've decided to name my hateful inner voice Jodi because I don't want it to really be me who says all this stuff. Jodi will not shut up about the 10 pounds and what a failure I am because of it. The sane me knows that it really has nothing to do with 10 pounds. I've had a rough summer and feel more than a little out of control. I know I am still smaller than the national average, but I don't compare myself to the national average. I compare myself to perfection - as unrealistic as I know that is.

As a total hypocrite, I preach on about this aspect of parenting as "do as I say, not as I do." Natalia is too young for me to explain this to her and I am hoping that knowing her family has her back and loves her, faults and all, will dissuade her inner Jodi from wreaking havoc like she does for me. I am constantly using little "Full House Monologues" to tell Natalia that she should be real, not perfect. I tell her things like "Just because people don't like strawberry ice cream doesn't make strawberry ice cream bad. It just means it isn't for everyone." and "You're supposed to make mistakes. It's okay, I love you for the whole package, not just the 'right' stuff." Saying this to myself was supposed to be my summer homework while a took a few months off of therapy. I'm failing miserably, to Jodi's delight.

So what's the point of this blog? Eventually Natalia will read it and know that I am not perfect. That sounds scary to me because I'm afraid I'll lose some street cred with her. My sane part (yes, it is in there) tells me that showing Natalia I have BIG faults, make BIG mistakes and have REAL struggles will make her willing to cut herself some slack. On some cosmic parent/child level, Natalia wants to be just like me and I want her to be kind of like me - just the neat and understanding parts of me. Eventually I will put into practice this show and tell of faults  and my Jodi that hides under the surface, so she'll know that everyone has their own set of demons. Everyone has imperfections and baggage and she needs to learn to accept all of herself. Even the ugly parts. I hope she figures out that God loves the whole gestalt, so maybe I can learn from her how to put that in effect. I will be this Yoda Jodi master who will shut that bitch up, or at least quiet her down to something less significant. Laying this out means that I am allowing people to see me as I really am, not this facade that I try and keep up. It just walls me off. 

So here is to me being painfully honest and vulnerable. Here is to giving Natalia a chance to know all of me, so when my true colors show out (they always do) she won't be blown away by the realization she didn't know me like she thought she did. That is way more painful sounding than having a mommy with a twisted self image and enough crazy to name her alter ego. Lastly, here is to her being a better version of me.