Perfect Disaster, Recovering!

I’m a recovering perfectionist, I’m a woman who knew how to make things beautiful and perfect for a party, photo op or event.. I’m the woman who ironed sheets on the spare bed in case anyone ever stayed over, I’m the girl who perfectly plated food for a dinner party. I’m the girl who drowned in perfectionism.

I was the woman who would volunteer to have an event at my home, to plan the baby shower and make the wedding cake. I was the woman who stayed up at night with anxiety that my home, decorations or cake wouldn’t be perfect. I was the woman who felt like I had a stomach of ulcers from anxiety, fear of being flawed.

I’m the woman who ironed sheets on a bed that nobody stayed in because I had too much anxiety to have houseguests. I was worried my home wouldn’t be up to par, that I’d have to entertain and wouldn’t have time to just be me. I wasn’t fake but I was "perfectionist Valerie", it was exhausting.

I’d perfectly plate dinner party food or make sure every single piece of flatware was perfectly matching, every piece of bake wear coordinated with my centerpiece.. I wouldn’t eat with my guests because I was too anxious about them needing something and I had a stomach ache from stress of company.

I was literally drowning in my own shitstorm of perfectionism, I was telling the world things were perfect when in reality the shattered glass house was visible. I was protecting everyone else at the expense of myself, of my self worth and my sanity..

After the virtual tornado that came through the life I’d known over the past two years I decided to recover. That’s weird, right? "I’ve decided to recover".. it sounds very "woo woo" and a bit self indulgent but in reality it is accepting that life, nor myself, are perfect and that I don’t want to be. Does it sound fun to live under this perfect cloud, worried that straying out from under it would cause the thunderstorm. "Wake up woman", enjoy the life, clouds, sun and rain.. because one day it will be over. When it’s over nobody will give a shit about the sheets, the house or the dinner parties.

I will tell you what happened when I let the perfectionist go.... I found peace, I found peace in letting my kids wear what they want, peace in saying I need help, peace in the mismatched furniture, peace in being present. Read that again mom, peace in BEING PRESENT! I’ve stepped back from my business to BE PRESENT! I’ve set professional boundaries to BE PRESENT! I was worried at first that stepping back from my business would hurt sales, they have but it’s enriched my heart and the lives of my boys because I’m more able to BE PRESENT! I’ve eliminated the clutter of life, you know, the friends who are only here for their gossip update... the "stuff" that clutters your mind when you could just BE PRESENT.

I care more about the experience, memory and fun we will have and less about a perfect face of makeup or the most amazing clothes. Don’t get me wrong, I love to get dolled up and feel good about myself when I’m "put together". I’ve however come to the realization that even with a bare face, hair in a bun while wearing workout clothes, I’m the same damn person as when I spend an hour on hair and makeup while dressed to the nines! Love yourself, every version of yourself.

Recently, the boys and I were on the way to an air show and I made a comment about my appearance.. without even thinking of the little ears in the back seat. My youngest piped up and gave me a metaphorical slice of humble pie! I leave you with my social media post from that day and ask.. or beg.. I beg you, LOVE YOURSELF, the you that is under the perfectionist, the you that’s under who others want you to be. Dig deep, find the "you" that you enjoy, be her!

"I’m a recovering perfectionist..a mom who is learning to enjoy more organic true moments and stop trying to create those perfect moments. I’m a mom who will gladly leave the house without makeup, the mom who will blow dry my hair with the windows down (like yesterday) despite my skin imperfections and unruly locks, the boys laughed hysterically as my hair whipped in the wind.. I will try to catch butterflies out the sunroof, I will care less about the spilled gatoraid in the cup holder, I will laugh at farts and poop jokes, I will sing like there are two kids watching.. I will remember that I’m their role model and I should curse less, cuddle more, be honest even if it hurts and love who I am! I said, "oh gosh I look terrible in that photo" and the little voice in the backseat said, "mom, that makes me sad because that’s my favorite picture of you".. Valerie, be more present, less perfect...whatever perfect is anyway ❤️" - May 27, 2019

2018

2018 started with me rubbing my exhusbands back as he withdrew from opiates for the first time. Watching him through the night as he shook, shivered and sweat profusely...I remember listening to the fireworks go off outside and worrying they’d wake the kids to see their daddy so sick... it started as hours and hours of withdrawals and turned into days.. we came out at the end of the tunnel,I saw a glimmer of the man I married many years ago..I saw happiness in his sober eyes but I also saw immense pain and sadness.. pain that he’d been living a lie, sadness that he almost lost everything due to the addiction.

His last pill was December 31st, 2017, I had faith that 2018 would be AMAZING and that we would be celebrating our next New Years celebrating a year of sobriety!! It would be a new start for him, for his health, for our families happiness.. that hope was shattered as he tested positive again in June and again in August, he relapsed again in October.. the lying continued and became worse.. looking back I’m not sure there really was any sobriety..

2018 was supposed to be the new start, not the end of our era. You see, he and I permanently separated in November but it was April 2018 when I knew It was the end of the marriage I knew, nurtured and hoped would last a lifetime. Looking back it was probably even prior to that but I stood by, I tried to love the addiction away.

Separation, It doesn’t mean I’ve abandoned him, he’s the man I married, had children with and built a life with..it means I’ve untied the rope that’s pulling me below water, I’ve had to make the choice to let him sink or swim for himself... I’ve tried to help him, tried to do it for him, tried to push him, controlled every aspect of our lives in an effort to force him into the right direction.

He was in a program, he was working on himself, I was working two jobs to support our family and I was absolutely content to do this until it became clear that he was using again, lying, draining our family financially, emotionally and physically... and that I wasn’t upholding my end of the bargain.. I realized that by allowing him a warm, soft place to land while he would make choices that would negatively effect the boys and I wasn’t in the best interest of any of us.

Did I want to tell my husband of 12 years to pee clean or leave?

Did I want to tell him that this is no longer his home?

Did I want to deliver the heartbreaking news to our boys that daddy isn’t living here anymore?

Did I want to have a locksmith come and change all locks?

Did I want to have a family meeting and disclose the secrets I’d feverishly kept for him to his sobbing family?

Did I want to have to apologize over and over to my family and friends who he’s wronged?

Did I want to have to go to the court house and get an order preventing him from having the kids without supervision?

Did I want to have to meet with numerous attorneys to finalize a separation and protect my kids and I.

Did I want to have to watch him slip farther away from the person I knew? Did I want to watch as my kids begged to see him only for him to "no show" again?

Did I want to take my kids to counseling and tell them the deep truths?

No, HELL NO! This is not the life I chose, this is the life that he chose and unfortunately the boys and I were collateral damage. There were moments I felt I’d lost everything, my family, my business and my marriage that I one time so deeply believed in. My thinking has really changed in recent months and I’m insanely lucky to have this life, to have healthy boys, to have a good job and provide for them. It hasn’t been easy but my boys have never had to leave their home, they’ve not switched schools or been without. 2018 isn’t the year that defines our family but it was the final moment as a family of four. I’m also lucky to be able to share my story and help others, the loneliness you feel while supporting an addict is unexplainable.

Where do we go from here? The boys and I are on a path of honesty, openness, healing and new traditions. My best friend recently bought us a journal for memories, I’m sure among the memories of night swimming, waterfights and family there will be memories of missed birthdays, holidays and "donuts with dads".