Well, I find myself at that familiar threshold where I suspect most of us have been given pause: standing just behind my front door, desperately wanting to step over the doorsill, but not finding quite enough courage to do it. Yes, I’ve been here before. Yes, I’ve stepped beyond that boundary. More than once. And yes, I’m almost as reticent this time as I’ve been in the past.
Why the pause? Of what am I afraid? I can cite all the usual suspects, but basically they all boil down to the spectre of perfection that I worry I can’t achieve. And that’s there’s the rub, eh? Perfection isn’t obtainable. Perfection doesn't mean I’ll never get read... but being imperfect doesn’t mean that every single person is going to drop their Starbucks cup, point wildly, and laugh maniacally as I pass, either.
I suppose I’ll just have to begin reveling in my own imperfection.
Loving it.
Laughing at it.
Owning it.
Because if I can’t love my imperfections, no one else will.
Remember to stay true to yourselves, and I'll do the same... perfectly loving my imperfection.
Kisses,
Amanda Nicole
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