Moderation....Always

This is the first "venting" blog I have ever done.
Why? Because I prefer to vent in person...for whatever reason, giving voice to my frustrations just seems to make them go away(so I will be reading this out loud as I type...killing two birds with one stone). However, in light of recent events...I want to be one of those people who makes their frustrations known to the world....and by world I mean the few people who actually read this...also facebook doesn't let you type more than a few sentences on your "status," so this was more default than anything else. (This also means that I will have posted three blogs in a years time...exceeding what I did last year--- so I should be good for the next ten months).
Ever since I moved to Utah, I noticed, probably within the first week, how crazy people here are, and by people, I mean women (minus the old school thinking men who still believe in submissive wives and the patriarchs of the family making the decisions and being the final word in all things....amish-thinking weirdos). My first Sunday out here was when I lived with my sister- and I attended her family ward. As I sat close to the back, I started people-watching...(with a little people-judging thrown in here and there)-- and was amazed, and not in a good way, at the "individuality" most of the women portrayed. I literally could have sworn that there existed identical twenty-uplets in that ward: same hair--- blonde, highlighted, either really long and parted with the "puff" at the back of the hair, or super short, with the layering "puff" at the back of the hair. Latest fashions represented only by name brand clothing. Most of the time the hooker-boot was worn (and I have nothing against those..it's cold here, and I can get away with wearing long wool socks in winter...but I should probably let people know I moved here in June...). Their children--very similarly dressed--- little boys in sweater vests and dress shirts...looking more like target ad models than church going rascals....yes...I did say rascals. The little girls had their hair done perfectly, and their outfits put together perfectly... I don't know what most people are used to growing up, but I can say from memory and from pictures that my Sunday best was on Holiday weekends, visitor weekends, or family event weekends. All of the other times I sported the homely, messy, cant wait to get out of church and put pants on look. Sadly, I still carry the same look the majority of the time.
Then as I got invited into some of their homes- I realized those were all the same too. Exact same outer appearance, with the little lawn, inside: same carpet, paint, color scheme, decorations, couches, tables, pictures--- everything was the same. I feared for their children ever getting lost in the neighborhood---they couldn't really recognize the outside of the house, and then if they decided to walk in to see if it was their home- they still wouldn't know, it was all the same. Scary business.
All of that was a little overwhelming, and really sad to me, but things got incredibly more sad, as I talked to them and got to know them, and realized that the majority of them had the same problem: perfection.
I don't know why, I didn't know then, and I definitely dont know now, but the women here have this ridiculous need for perfection in everything they do. Perfect house (good luck there), perfect husband (does not exist), perfect children (if they were, they wouldn't be alive), perfect bodies (expounding on that later), perfect in their callings, in their mothering, in being the best wife, in their homemaking skills, and some feel the need to transfer that attitude to a job as well. I feel tired just typing about it (because I'm thinking about it...not because typing is a tiring activity). Couple this need for perfection, with the need to do it all, and you have your classic...for lack of better words, nut-job.
It's craziness.
(Please refer to the aforementioned "expounding"--- it's happening right now)
One of the biggest perfection problems I have noticed, especially recently, is people's need for the perfect body. I don't know if this is news to most people or not, and it may come be too much for some, so maybe you should sit down before you read this, "There is no such thing as a perfect body." Shocker right?! Honestly, I have met so many people since I've lived here, who have this unrealistic idea of achieving a perfect body, and it doesn't exist. In fact, find me someone who claims to have a perfect body, and I will show you a flaw. That's life. And it ruins lives when people think that such an achievement is possible. There is a fine line between people wanting a perfectly healthy body, and people wanting their healthy body to be perfect, and it's the latter who end up more stressed, more upset, more anxious, and more unhappy, because they are trying to achieve the impossible.
Here's why: you could always be skinnier, you could always be more tan, you could always have whiter or straighter teeth, you could always have better definition, a better hairstyle, a different face (thank you plastic surgery), bigger/smaller breasts, you can even have a sculpted hind-end, which I am saving my money for. Kidding :) (Andy's saving money for me). You could always be something better, but you will kill yourselves trying to get there. I know what it's like to have that mindset, momentarily. It's stressful, and ruthless, and completely consuming.
Don't get me wrong--- I love the idea of being healthy-- I want to be healthy for my family, kids, future grandkids- for my husband, but mostly for myself, because it feels good, and because I feel good. That doesn't mean I'm spending my days working myself out to death, or jumping on the scale and depressing myself over what weight I think I should be. I don't spend every meal calculating the calories I'm eating and worrying if I've exercised enough to be able to eat something I want, and I don't beat myself over the head for not having time to work out every now and again, because to me, that's crazy. Here's what I think--- I want to be healthy enough to be able to walk to Missouri if needed in the later days, but not large enough that I'm the first people want to kill on that trip because of the meals I could provide. Moderation.
I love freedom(that's why I decided to live here and not North Korea)--- knowing I can do whatever I want, whenever I want--is a very liberating feeling. I would lose that if I felt the need to be perfect all the time, and I think that's what happens here a lot. It's interesting... with the majority of people here being LDS, and one of our great understandings about this life being our agency, how is it that so many people hold themselves captive to their own standards?
Instead of perfection, I have a different "-tion" word I wish people would strive more for around here. Imitation. Kidding. Moderation. Why? Because perfection is unrealistic.
It. Is. Impossible.
If it were possible, the people who achieved it, would not be here. I redact, it is possible, but not in this lifetime (*disclaimer...that is not me telling anyone to off themselves so they can reach perfection). Moderation in all things. It's not a hard concept, it's a lot easier than the concept of perfection, and I promise it will make life so much happier.