Good enough.

I started seeing a therapist about 6 months after having my second child. It was a big deal for me. I’m that person that strives for perfection. I don’t need perfect, but I always needed better. Asking for help was new for me and kind of listed under the “failure” column I had on my invisible list in my head.

“I can do better,” was often a phrase in my head. I like to be the best version of myself and when I’m not, I reflect on why and vow to make the appropriate changes to do better for the future. Maybe it means more rest, or some deep breaths, or saying “no” to something. This time it meant to do more than ask for help, but seek it, and follow the advice.

I don’t remember that first session well. Between the ugly crying and the brain fog that is reserved specifically for parents of infants- it was easy for me to just word vomit all of my failures. Failure to keep my son healthy. Failure to give my daughter enough attention. Failure to keep the house in order. Failure to keep a meal plan for the family, or laundry clean, folded, and put away, or dishes washed…the list went on. Don’t get me started on what I was failing at with work or those guilty feelings of being a working parent and *gasp* liking it. I did a lot of talking that first session and the therapist did a lot of listening.

She wrote two words on an index card for me and said that I needed to look at that every day and every time I felt the pot boiling over. This would need to be my new mantra.

“Good enough.”

While I walked away from that session and all of my sessions not feeling satisfied enough, needing more help than therapy alone could give me- I did take away those two words.

I find myself saying them often. At home, at work, in the car, in the middle of the night, on vacation. While I am doing much better than that October afternoon, I still need this reminder to ground me and remind me of my priorities, like when I needed to write this post and the clock was ticking and I was still at school getting things together since taking the break I needed and deserved still had it’s consequences. “It’s good enough,” I said to myself as I walked out of the building.

I’ll be honest, my “good enough” can be damn good sometimes, and it’s okay when it’s just good.