sharing.

M. and I met with an interfaith cantor earlier in the week. We traveled to her home in Kew Gardens, Queens, which was a whole new world to me since I had NEVER been to Queens. I led us slighlty off in the wrong direction and wasn't able to find her house. I felt like an idiot. That's when I had a complete breakdown.
Then, when I couldn't find her phone number to ask for directions, I went further into meltdown mode. There were no tears - just a lot of red-faced huffing and puffing and a lot of negativity.
And there was no calming me down. I was just off in my little angry world, completely unpleasant.
In confessing the story of my bad behavior to my mom, she said: "You do that with M.? I thought you just did that with me." Oh.
I suppose that I have a history of throwing tantrums in the presence of the people who I feel most comfortable with. Not okay.
I also think that sometimes, when I freak out about getting lost in Queens, I'm actually just frustrated with something bigger like trying to find a religious leader that will make me feel comfortable and not offend anyone in my family.

"I want you to know that you don't have to be perfect." That's what my mom said.
Followed by: "It's not a character flaw that you're not perfect. Nobody is perfect."

At first I thought she was comforting me, letting me know that it's ok to freak out sometimes, that it's hard to always put forth your best behavior. But then, with more thought, I decided she was speaking to the cause of my meltdowns: disappointment in myself. It's ok to mess up. You will not be causing the world to end because you lost a cantor's phone number.

I suppose it doesn't matter so much how she meant it but how I interpreted it. And it felt really great to hear those words: "it's not a character flaw that you're not perfect."

How great is that?