I am not superwoman.
I am here to confess that I do not in fact have it all together. Ever.
Never was that more clear than this weekend.
As you may know, we are painting our house ourselves —with the help of family members (a lot of help from family members).
I have also been pushing myself really hard to grow my shop (and some of it is paying off.)
The house painting and shop crashed together spectacular on Saturday when I started attempting to prepare my backyard for a bridal shower I was hosting Sunday afternoon. My parents and brothers had spent the morning helping me paint and I was sweaty, wearing a hot pink t-shirt from high school, trying to weed and water my neglected yard before I headed inside to sew.
I was covered in sweat, dirty and tired when I headed inside to find two of my best friends in my house—they came over to borrow a dress.
One of them looked at me, and said “You look tired.” And, I being in the place that I was, burst into tears. Hot, choking sobs.
My friend pulled me in for a hug and was like, “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean it that way!”
But that wasn’t it. I am tired. And trying to keep it together was exhausting. How was I supposed to host a Pinterest-worthy shower the next day that would show my friend how much I loved her when I can barely stay on top of laundry?
It was as if my friends sensed this, and one of them, cupped my face and said, “You do so much. You do not need to do so much.” And the other asked me, gently, if we could move the shower to her yard.
My first reaction was to say no, I could host it at my house. To do otherwise would feel like a failure. I was about to say so, when they both insisted that it could be moved.
And with that, a giant weight lifted from my shoulders. It was okay to admit I was floundering and to take the grace that my friends were freely offering me.
I still helped host the shower—cooking and prepping—but I didn’t have to keep weeding or scrub my toilet or move the stack of totes I’ve been working on for a wholesale order from my living room.
I tell this story to say with utter conviction that we don’t need to be superwomen. I don’t know where this idea came from—that we need to cook perfect meals, and look perfectly put together and host a bridal shower when our backyards are covered with paint chips and our house hasn’t been cleaned in weeks.
I am not superwoman. I am messy; I have too many things on my plate as I try to chase my dreams. I need more sleep and less caffeine and I need to learn more on the grace given from my friends and from God.
This next season is going to be busy—I know that. I know that there are going to be some things I need to take completely out of my hands so that I can focus and just survive, honestly.
And I know that I am not alone in this—I know there are other women, other people, maybe you—who feel like they’re trying to be superwoman and can’t be. Please rest in the grace that God gives you—He is enough so you don’t need to be. You don’t have to be superwoman. And if you happen to have friends, who will stay up late and help package orders, or tell you with love that you look tired-- cling to them.