We’re all trying too hard.

There’s still makeup on my face from this morning, but I’ve exchanged my “trendy” ripped jeans and cute top for Erics old t-shirt and my maternity athletic shorts. “Now that I’m home I can relax” I tell myself. Ugh what a tall order. Who says relaxing is a thing just for home?

That’s part of my problem. Home is where I relax, but the rest of the world is my stage-where I perform. I don’t like that it’s like that. I don’t like that I sat at a table this morning with a bunch of wonderful women and pretended like I don’t have social anxiety and I wasn’t in the midst of the worst period of my life. Granted they were strangers, and there is something to be said about good boundaries and stuff. But it still makes me wonder what it would like if we weren’t all trying so damn hard all the time?

I toyed with the idea of wearing this outfit today. Erics baggy t-shirt, these shorts with the elastic so forgiving, but then I didn’t. Better look somewhat put together at least for our first meeting right? There will be time to look like crap later on. And heaven forbid Lilah not be wearing an outfit that coordinates pants, shirt, and hair bow (OCD coming into play. She matches even when she’s going to bed-send help-I have issues).

But I don’t want to be exhausted every time I leave my house. I don’t want to put on a mask for the world that I can only take off in the privacy of my own home.

And maybe some of you who know me are thinking that I’m an open book. I try to be. I try to be vulnerable and open and honest. And in some ways I am. I have no problem talking about my struggles, my poor choices. But you know what’s really hard for me? FEELING the pain in front of someone else. It’s even hard for me to feel the pain in front of myself.

So today I want you to know that I’m struggling with finding the right medication dose for my anxiety. I’m flailing around between scary postpartum thoughts and so much energy I can’t sleep. Eric and I are navigating a rocky road of his work schedule and my emotional needs. I continue to wrestle with stomach issues and face defeat in my postpartum weight loss battle. But most days you would never know it. I pride myself on holding it together. I never want to be “too much for anyone”.

And I know that today, in a room of so many women, we were all trying too hard. Trying too hard to get it together for two hours so we didn’t look like a blubbering mess to everyone else. Trying too hard to get it together for ourselves so we could feel normal for one second and not like just a mom with no life.

We’re living in a world of trying too hard. And that doesn’t mean we can’t dress up if we want or leave our problems behind for a little while. I will never stop loving fashion and picking out outfits and overspending on poshmark “cuz it’s so cheap”. And sometimes I NEED to pretend for a second that I’m not drowning in anxiety and obsessive compulsive thoughts.

BUT…

We don’t HAVE to. We don’t HAVE to try hard. We aren’t a slave to it. We can try hard or not try hard and pick and choose when and where and why.

My challenge to you and myself today. Go somewhere today and don’t try at all. Just be-whatever that means. And since my introvert self just had a big morning, the farthest I’m getting out is for a walk around the neighborhood, but you better believe I’m still not gonna try. I think it’s a laundry not done, bed not made (not that I EVER make it), cookies for lunch, chipoltle for dinner kind of day.

Who is with me?