I'm breaking blog silence, friends, finally. You see, I've really been struggling lately. Struggling because I launched this new brand, and I have such high hopes and such big dreams for where I want to take it. I want this little blog to be full of pretties and inspiration--photo sessions in perfect golden hour light with little girls dressed in Matilda Jane, design-y goods for wonderful clients who turn into friends. Quotes and DIY projects and all those things. And someday, I am sure, this blog will be that. My life, I hope, will be that. But right now, it's not. And I've tricked myself into believing that because it's not, it's not good enough. There, I said it. I am marrying my best friend, the absolute love of my life, a true gift from God, in 43 days. We are working hard setting up our cute little newlywed abode, a tiny one-bedroom apartment with soft grey walls and a pretty blue kitchen. So much life will happen within its walls, and I couldn't be more excited. We are healthy, everyone we love is healthy. By all outside accounts, my life is a dream. And yet, thanks to the endless blog stalking, and Pinteresting, and scrolling through Instagram, I have allowed myself to accept a lie: I am not good enough. And my life, in all it's plain-jane glory, is not good enough.
My days are not full of perfectly photograph-able lunch dates with friends at open air cafes. I don't live in New York or LA. My closet is mostly Goodwill. I haven't been busy throwing cute dinner parties or collaborating with insanely talented creatives on projects and blog content. Instead, my days are full of smushed Cheerios, Disney Pandora on my phone, dance parties in the kitchen with toddlers, long walks around neighborhoods pushing a double stroller, painting my apartment until late into the night, trying to stay caught up on the endless wedding thank-you notes, finding time to edit photo sessions and manage my Etsy shop, and lots, and LOTS of tear-filled meltdowns. While my friends with the same major are leading very grown-up lives with very awesome jobs on the coasts, I am nannying. For the 11th summer straight. And I've tricked myself into thinking that that isn't enough.
But you know what? It IS enough. I LOVE nannying. I adore the kids I spend my days with. I love helping out frazzled moms who need a day off to get their toenails painted, wander aimlessly around Target, or just take a nap in the park. I love answering a million questions of "but why?" throughout the day. I love the sleepy little smiles when I lay them down for naps. I love making crafts and sticky hands trying to braid my hair.
Someday, I want nothing more than to be a designer and photographer, with a cute little studio and shop in a downtown somewhere. I would love, someday, to make into the cool club of bloggers a la Emma Robertson, Bri Emery, Joanna Goddard, and all their cool club friends. They're all 20-somethings right? With perfect relationships and perfect self-owned businesses and perfectly styled homes and perfectly dressed little ones and they travel all the time and they're all friends and they're all so perfect and accomplished. Except perfect is not really ever the story. All I know is what they put online. All I know is what anyone puts online. And my voracious consumption of all this so-called reality is warping me of my appreciation for my own life, my own beautiful life.
Maybe soon, this blog will be full of styled photo sessions and beautiful wedding suites that I designed. But probably, for awhile, it's going to be a mess of instagrams of the under-5 crowd with whom I spend my days, and ramblings of the constant state of chaos that is my life right now. But you know? I think I'm finally realizing that it's okay. I'm losing so much time focusing on what I wish my life was, instead of being so grateful for what it currently is. And it is beautiful. It is so beautiful and, dare I say it, maybe even perfect. <3