The divine pleasure of not waiting
The freedom that comes when you stop waiting to become someone else before fully inhabiting your life.
The pleasure of not waiting.
I jotted these words down in my phone earlier this week as a potential topic for a full post. It was spurred by my surprise at how many people resonated with a Note I posted last week alongside an action shot my husband took of me mid-stride on our recent hike in the Catskills.
Here’s the pic and the Note:
Some of you are waiting to fully inhabit your life.
Until you lose the weight.
Tone up.
Look younger.
Feel less soft.
Take up less space.
You keep telling yourself you’ll relax then.
Travel then.
Wear the thing then.
Get in the photo then.
Stop obsessing then.
But your life is happening right now.
How much of it do we miss while we’re busy trying to become someone more worthy of living it?
The Note was inspired by last week’s piece, which was moodier and more frustrated than my Note. I wrote about fat-shaming hotel bathrobes and how they’re one of those seemingly insignificant reminders that bigger women can do all the things, but still aren’t always made to fit. Even with the mood, the piece was overwhelmingly positive. (Plus, it had pretty pics of the Catskills!)
I wrote:
“Despite the external madness, I’ve never been so zen about my fitness.
It’s not good or bad. All or nothing. Fit or not fit. I’ve finally gotten to a place of understanding that fitness exists on a spectrum, and I’m not deficient or failing at life when I’m ‘less fit.’ I’m also not in some desperately mad scramble to get back to some crazy ideal.”
It’s true, I’m happier with my body now than I’ve ever been. But when I thought about it more, I realized that even in those moments when I’m not happy with my body now, it’s no longer stopping me from living in it.
What I think the piece reflects is a place of acceptance.
I’m not chasing the crazy anymore as it pertains to fitness, thinness, or physical appearance.
That past version of me was so focused on what I should be, that it kept me disconnected from myself and the larger world around me. It kept me from being present.
Every great moment came with an asterisk. Nothing was good enough, because I wasn’t good enough, or rather, my body wasn’t good enough just as it was.
We all know people like this. People who are postponing their lives, putting off the good stuff until _____________, whatever that may be. And, for some of us, it’s not about reaching the perfect size. It’s a certain amount of money, a job title, or some other magical milestone we’re supposed to achieve before we can really start living. It’s often accompanied by the idea that once I achieve ______________, happiness will arrive too.
We can become so future-focused, so perfect-scenario-obsessed, that we put off what’s most important.
And I think we rarely acknowledge the cost of that mindset. We delay the trips. We dodge the photos. We postpone joy. And even when we do the things, if we’re still waiting on perfect, we become spectators in our own lives instead of fully inhabiting them.
I know a lot of y’all get it, even if this kind of self-reflection is new territory. You’re doing the work here in midlife too, loosening the grip on the perfectionism and the people-pleasing, bit by bit, even when it feels uncomfortable. For those of you who aren’t sure how to begin, maybe it starts with a question: What would it feel like to enjoy this moment without judgment?
Maybe this can serve as a tiny bit of encouragement. Thanks to my Note, I heard from others who’ve had similar realizations and wanted to share a few.
I think that last line is the crux of it all. Life is happening anyway.
Maybe that’s the real freedom. Not waiting for perfect, but realizing you’re fully worthy of living it right now.
Now it’s your turn …
Have you moved past perfect? If so, was there a catalyst that got you there? Are there still parts of your life you’re waiting to fully step into?