Being perfect

The monkey started speech therapy last week. We knew we need to start venturing out. He only leaves the house to attend school and that has been about it since the pandemic started early 2019. We knew this change would be difficult for him but we also know this has to be done. He needs to be able to get out of the house. The therapist told us that he needs to get exposed to different sounds, smells, lighting, etc. And it is easier to make these changes when he is ten and not twenty.
Yesterday my daughter and I took him. It was rough. Very rough. I have bruises and scratches all over my arms to show how difficult yesterday was. When he arrived at the place he was struggling. He did better after a while but struggled afterwards too.
I was very close in just throwing up my arms and calling it quits. I’m exhausted.
But I also know that this is for his own good. We need to do this. We can’t always be home. That’s easy. We need to expose him to the ‘real world’.
When my husband got home, my daughter told him how bad it was. The monkey was showering and when he was done, he came over to me and hugged me for a while. He kept using the sign for ‘sorry’. I know he is sorry, but man is it hard. Sometimes it is a lot harder than other days.
Yesterday just simply sucked. I didn’t do great. I got frustrated and angry.
And I’m still a bit emotional from yesterday. And today I get this message from a friend, just because.
“There’s freedom of laying down your expectations of being a ‘perfect’ version of yourself and embrace the idea there is no such version of yourself. It’s all you. “


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