The Great Myth of Having It All Together (And Why I'm Fine Being a Hot Mess)

I used to try — I’m not kidding, I tried so hard — to be Supermom, Superwife, Superentrepreneur... and pretty much failed at all of it. I wanted so badly to be as organized and zen as that “things that bring you joy” lady. You know the one — all folded shirts and peaceful smiles. But honestly? I’m just way too ADD for any of it. I have good intentions, I really do. But somewhere between color-coding a calendar and trying to clean out a closet, I end up eating a snack and reorganizing exactly nothing.

I’ve been 39 a few years in a row now — and guess what? I think I know less now than I did in my twenties. On the bright side, I also care wayyy less. Somewhere along the way, I stopped sweating it (mostly).

Looking back, I realize part of my struggle was constantly comparing myself to other women who seemed to have it all together. Like one friend I had during that season — she had her entire family fold their dirty clothes before putting them in the hamper, just to save space. (Let that sink in.) She also hand-dried her Tupperware as it came out of the dishwasher to make sure there were no water spots. Meanwhile, I was just over here trying to remember if I’d fed the kids — or at least changed a diaper or two.

Comparison will take everything from you. Every last bit of peace, joy, and confidence. But here’s the thing: no one else is me. No one has my background. No one has my particular brand of brain wiring. No one knows my kids the way I do.

Being some kind of "model family" was never in the cards for us — we’re way too weird, too quirky. And honestly? I like us.

I’m a mess, and I know it. There are always dishes waiting. The laundry is basically a fifth roommate. Typos sneak into my emails like ninjas, and my Excel sheets somehow always come out looking like abstract art. My kids screw up. My husband and I scramble to stay on budget. We are imperfect in a hundred ways — and all of those “rules for living a good life” that I used to measure us against? They were never our rules anyway.

These days, I choose freedom. I choose not to conform.
And if I have a superpower, it’s this: I’m really good at being me.

So if you’re out there thinking you’re the only one barely holding it together — welcome to the club. We don’t have matching t-shirts (because honestly, who has time for that?), but we do have a lot of grace, a lot of laughter, and a deep appreciation for the beautiful, messy, real life we’re living.

Here’s to the unfolded laundry, the slightly chaotic calendars, and the typos we catch three days too late.
Here’s to being barely tolerable — and absolutely loving it.