Dear Persistent Me: When Not Giving Up Means Learning to Believe in Yourself

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Have you ever set your mind to do something and doubted yourself the entire time?

It is not always a lack of ability.

Sometimes it is a lack of self-esteem.

I know I am good at the things I am good at.

I know I am smart.

I know I can learn what I need to learn to get where I want to go.

I know I have the skills to complete the things I want to do.

And yet, sometimes my belief in myself simply does not exist.

I Keep Going Anyway

I do things because I am persistent.

Tenacious.

Stubborn.

I see a goal, and I keep going.

And going.

And going.

I am one of those people who, when asked in an interview what my weakness is, says:

I am stubborn.

Because I am.

I do not always know when to give up.

I Do Not Know When to Let Things Go

That applies to arguments.

Fights.

Marriage.

Relationships.

Projects.

Anything I really want to accomplish.

I do not know how to quit.

And lately, that persistence has been showing up in this journal cover.

Every time I get close to being done, I find something else to nitpick.

Something else to tweak.

Something else to change.

Is It Really Not Perfect, or Am I Afraid?

That is the question I keep coming back to.

Do I actually think the cover is not done?

Or am I afraid to put it out there?

Either way, I keep working on it.

I tweak.

I change.

I stare at it.

I move things around.

Does it really change much?

No.

But somehow, in my mind, it settles something.

I Just Like to Keep Trying

That is the problem with persistence.

Sometimes it is exactly what gets you where you need to go.

Sometimes it is the thing that keeps you from letting go.

Today, I sat there looking at the journal cover thinking:

This looks great.

This is perfect.

But I can still change this.

And then I had to stop myself.

How can something be perfect and still need to be changed?

That Is Literally My Brand

My brand is Unperfectly Perfect.

The whole idea is accepting your perfection inside your imperfections.

Recognizing that you are who you are.

That you are enough.

You do not need to fit inside somebody else’s idea of what perfect looks like.

I can accept that about myself.

I can accept that I am a perfectionist.

Tenacious.

Stubborn.

Persistent.

But apparently, I struggle to accept it in my work.

I Know Better and Still Struggle With It

That is what makes it so contradictory.

I know things do not have to be perfect.

I say it all the time.

My definition of perfect does not even line up with this flawless idea of perfection.

And yet I still sit there thinking:

I can make that better.

I can fix that.

I can change that.

I do not only do that with projects.

I do it with people too.

I Always Think I Can Help

I look at something and think:

I can make that better.

I can do that better.

I can fix that.

Then I look at a person and think:

You look like you could use help.

Let me take that on too.

Why?

Seriously.

Why?

Confidence Does Not Always Mean Self-Belief

There are people walking around who look incredibly confident.

And some of them think terribly of themselves.

I understand that.

That was part of why I created the name Unperfectly Perfect in the first place.

Technically, the word is not correct.

The word should be imperfect.

I know that.

Again.

I know what I know.

But I chose unperfectly because that is the point.

Not Everything Fits Into a Box

Not everything looks pretty.

Not everything fits neatly into the box people designed for it.

And you still get to accept it.

You still get to claim it.

You still get to say:

This is mine.

This is me.

This counts.

Unperfectly perfect.

I Am Good at Acknowledging My Flaws

I have been persistent about trying to live that.

For me, that means acknowledging my flaws.

And acknowledging my wins.

I am very good at one of those things.

Guess which one.

I can acknowledge every way I fail.

Every mistake.

Every flaw.

Every place I fall short.

I can do that all day.

I Am Still Learning to Acknowledge My Wins

What I struggle with is saying:

I did that well.

I handled that.

I accomplished something.

I am good at this.

I can be incredibly persistent in putting myself down.

But I am not nearly as persistent about lifting myself up.

And that is a problem.

Why Can I Fight for Everything Except Myself?

If I can be persistent about everything else in my life, why can I not be persistent in cheering for myself?

Why can I not say:

You did a great job.

You have come so far.

You worked hard.

You should be proud.

There is nothing wrong with cheering myself on.

I know that.

But knowing it and doing it are two very different things.

Maybe I Need to Take It One Bite at a Time

What if I started small?

One thing.

One good thing.

One thing I can actually believe.

That feels much more realistic to me than standing in front of a mirror and trying to convince myself of something my brain immediately rejects.

One bite at a time.

I Used to Hate My Hair

There was a time when I absolutely hated my hair.

I was taught to hate it.

That was the world I grew up in.

As a little girl, my hair was permed.

Braided.

Hot combed.

Straight.

That was what I knew.

So if you had asked me when I thought I looked the most beautiful, I would have said:

When my hair is straight.

I Was Persistent About Meeting That Standard

For years, I permed it.

Straightened it.

Repeated the process.

Because I had decided that was the standard I had to meet.

That was what made me pretty.

That was what made my hair acceptable.

Until one day, it did not.

Something changed.

I Became Persistent About Loving My Hair

At some point, I became persistent enough to love my hair.

Persistent enough to accept it.

To stop fighting what naturally grew out of my head.

That did not happen instantly.

It took time.

But I got there.

And if I could do that, maybe I can do the same thing in other parts of my life.

I Am Persistent About Caring for Other People

I am a very loving person.

I wear my heart on my sleeve.

Anybody who knows me knows that.

I will give the shirt off my back.

I am persistent about making sure people feel seen.

Heard.

Loved.

Important.

That matters deeply to me.

I Do Not Want Other People to Feel the Way I Feel

So much of how I lead comes from that.

I do not want people to feel invisible.

I do not want them to feel ignored.

I do not want them to sit alone beating themselves up.

I know what that feels like.

So I try to make sure the people around me do not experience it.

I persist in that.

But I Do Not Always Do the Same for Myself

That is the part I have to work on.

I will pour into everyone else.

Consistently.

Persistently.

And somewhere along the way, I convince myself that doing that will somehow fill me too.

It does not.

We both know that.

Pouring Into Everyone Else Can Leave You Empty

You can persistently take care of everybody else’s needs and completely ignore your own.

And it does not make you feel better.

Eventually, it leaves you empty.

It leaves you tired.

It leaves you wondering who is going to take care of you.

And sometimes, the answer has to be:

Me.

Maybe Self-Care Needs to Mean More

We hear all the time that we need to take care of ourselves.

And sometimes that means:

I ate today.

I showered today.

I slept.

I took care of the basics.

Those things matter.

But what if taking care of yourself means more than that?

What If Self-Care Means Saying Something Nice About Yourself?

What if it means saying:

I did a good job.

I look good today.

I handled that well.

I am helpful.

I am kind.

I am pretty.

I am smart.

What if persistence looked like lifting ourselves up instead of tearing ourselves down?

I Am Good at So Many Things

I am good at so many things.

And I am so bad at acknowledging it.

Tonight, though, I had a reminder.

One of my kiddos called me unexpectedly.

I did not think I would hear from her.

I thought that once we went our separate ways, that was it.

And then the phone rang.

Everyone Lit Up

Her face lit up.

Mine did too.

My kids’ faces lit up.

Everyone was happy.

Excited.

Relieved.

It was such a good moment.

And she is doing well.

But in order to be doing well, she had to be persistent too.

Sometimes Persistence Gets You Back to the People You Love

I imagine there had to be persistence in her asking to call me.

This person matters to me.

I want to talk to them.

How do we make that happen?

And before we got off the phone, I told her:

Keep doing good.

Keep doing well.

Because if you keep doing well, you get rewarded with things like these phone calls.

Then you get to talk to me.

Persistence.

We Expect It From Everyone Else

We expect the people around us to be consistent.

Persistent.

We want them to show up for us.

Love us.

Choose us.

Treat us well.

And yet, we do not always demand that same persistence from ourselves.

I am tired of that.

I Am Tired of Letting Myself Down

I am tired of telling myself:

You cannot do that.

You will not do that.

You are not good enough.

I am tired of being my own biggest naysayer.

Yes, there are bullies in the world.

But nobody has bullied me more than I have bullied myself.

I Have Said Worse Things to Myself Than Anyone Else Has

People can say mean things.

And yes.

Sometimes they hurt.

But the truth is, I have said worse things to myself.

Persistently.

No one is quicker to cut me down than I am.

That has to change.

So How Do I Change It?

How do I fight the version of myself that insists I am worse than I actually am?

Some people would say:

Write affirmations.

Put them on your mirror.

Repeat them every day.

Wonderful.

I am horrible at affirmations.

Affirmations Do Not Work Well for Me

I understand why people like them.

I understand why they can help.

But it is hard for me to stand in front of the mirror and say things I do not believe.

My brain immediately rejects them.

So maybe I do something different.

Maybe I start with something I already believe.

I Am Really Good at Picking Colors

That sounds small.

But it is true.

I am really good at picking out colors.

I am really good at color-coding my closet.

I am really good at making sure my house has the necessities.

I am really good at making sure my bills get paid.

Those things may not sound exciting.

But they count.

Start With the Small Things

There are things I do well.

Even if they seem boring.

Even if they do not feel impressive.

They are still evidence.

A foundation.

A place to start.

You do not begin life by running.

You scoot.

Then crawl.

Then take steps.

Then eventually, you run.

I Want to Learn How to Scoot

That is what I want.

I want to learn how to say:

I am good at something I am actually good at.

And believe it.

I want to learn to be proud of myself.

Not someday.

Now.

Even if I have to start very small.

I Want to Be Proud of Me

I want to look at myself and say:

Hey.

You made it.

I want to tell the little girl inside me:

We did it.

We accomplished the goal.

And we were good at it.

That matters to me.

It Is Easy to See the Negative

Negative things are everywhere.

And if you struggle with mental health, they can live inside your head too.

Rumination.

The same thoughts repeating.

Again.

Again.

Again.

It can be incredibly difficult to shut them off.

So maybe I do not try to silence everything at once.

What If I Add One Good Thing?

Every time I catch myself ruminating, what if I think of one good thing?

Just one.

Even if the good thing is:

I recognize that I am ruminating right now.

That is still something.

That is awareness.

That is progress.

Not perfect.

But good.

My Bite of Pie

My bite of pie today was deciding that it was time to finish.

The journal cover was done.

It was as perfect as it was going to be.

And I finally said:

We are doing this.

It is time to list it.

It is time to stop tweaking.

Stop waiting.

Stop finding one more thing to change.

I took that bite of pie.

I uploaded it.

Then I had another opportunity to stall.

I could have said:

Okay.

It is uploaded.

Maybe I will release it later.

Maybe I will pick another date.

Maybe I will wait.

And I knew exactly what would happen if I did that.

I would not do it.

So I said:

No.

Rip the Band-Aid off.

Go for it.

And I did.

I am excited.

Thrilled.

Anxious.

Nervous.

Scared.

Happy.

All of it.

Because I finally gave myself the chance to say:

I did a good job.

It is ready.

It is done.

It is complete.

It did not have to be perfect.

It just had to be written.

And I wrote it.

I designed it.

I thought through it.

I built it.

Because I know what I am doing.

I am good at what I am doing.

I have these conversations because I know what it feels like to hurt.

To feel lonely in a room full of people.

To go to work wearing a mask that says:

Hi.

I am happy.

Everything is fine.

While inside, everything feels full of dread.

I know what that feels like.

And I am finally acknowledging that the things I know and the things I have survived matter.

I hope that by acknowledging it, you feel like you can acknowledge yourself too.

That you can say:

She gets it.

This is not just empty talk.

This is not somebody telling me what I should feel.

This is someone who understands.

I understand being persistent about almost everything except yourself.

And I do not want us to keep doing that.

We deserve better.

We deserve to fight for ourselves too.

Today, I fought for myself.

I fought for you too.

The journal is for all of us.

But I finally said:

It is perfect.

Not because every single piece is flawless.

Not because every I is dotted and every T is crossed.

It is perfect because I did it.

What if that is enough?

What if perfect simply means:

I did it.

I am Unperfectly Perfect.

I am great at the things I am great at.

I struggle with the things I struggle with.

And all of those pieces make me me.

So maybe that is perfect after all.

Today is another page in the story.

It does not have to be perfect.

It just has to be written.

Before you close your journal tonight, ask yourself:

What was your bite of pie today?

Until tomorrow,

Love you loud.