What to Do When Pinterest Says, “You’re Not Enough”

My heart races quickly, and I feel the pit form in my stomach as my senses are bombarded with color and sparkle. The pressure to have a “Pinterest Perfect” holiday season is strong, and every store reminds me I need to do more, be more, and try more to have even the smallest chance of success.

Holiday music blares in my ears, and I realize afresh how overwhelmed I am. I still have to plan meals, finish grocery shopping, get to bunches of holiday commitments, wrap presents, decorate, and not freak out in the process.

That last item on my list will be the toughest.

When I became a wife and a mom, it hit me. It’s my responsibility to create perfection during the holidays. I heard the familiar, hissing voice in my head tell me that if I don’t make my family’s holiday memories look exactly like they do on Pinterest or decorating blogs–or in my own imagination, for that matter–then my efforts are for nothing.

This critic in me is never satisfied.

One November, as I sat with my young daughter and thought about the holidays, I realized it was not her lengthy lashes that held my attention, but my wish for cuter décor. I found that instead of focusing on my loved ones at the holidays, I connected with scarcity, a constant feeling that caused me to believe I didn’t have enough. That I wasn’t enough.

I finally realized how much I’d allowed the Enemy to steal from my holidays. I’d let myself be cheated. I’d listened to the lies.

I also realized what I truly wanted at Christmas was the long, slow, intentional time with Jesus that the holidays ought to embody. The One who is the ultimate cure to my racing heart had come. He had come to be Emmanuel, God with us. Ironically, just when I needed him most, I was shutting him out. Just at the time he most wanted to speak peace to my heart, I was allowing the lies of scarcity and perfectionism to steal his words to me.

The last couple of years have helped me change my posture about celebrating the holidays. Truth be told, I love all the details and trimmings, the events and delicious meals and beautifully wrapped gifts that come with the season.

[Tweet “But my peace and presence are no longer predicated on my performance.”]

Guess what? I’m not great at hosting—there’s grace for that.

I’m a mediocre baker—no problem; we’ll get creative.

At times, I’m grossly overwhelmed by the busyness of the season—I give myself permission to slow down.

I’ve decided that instead of measuring my worth against others, their blogs and their Pinterest boards, I’m going to lean into who God made me to be.

And here’s who that is: I am a lover. I love big and hard and passionately. I care about my people, and I’m doing what I can to support them and be with them in the beautiful and the messy moments.

And that’s enough. Loving my people well is enough.

I’ve decided that this year, when the sneaky voice of perfectionism starts speaking, I’m going to lavish grace all over it. I’ve noticed that whereas perfectionism is like a consuming fire, grace is like a cool rain that brings life to scorched land.

When we truly engage with our moments, we give our people and our God the best we have—ourselves. When we choose to bring all of our attention to the messy and mundane, we boldly proclaim that this, too, is grace. We don’t need perfect homes or perfect Christmas trees or the perfect mantel décor. We, fully present and loving, are enough.

Aundi Kolber loves Jesus, people, and stories. She has a goofy sense of humor, but may start a deep conversation within five minutes of meeting you. She is a professional counselor in Colorado. Her hope is to use her voice to talk about hard and beautiful things. Aundi blogs at bravelyimperfect.com.

 

Photograph used with permission from, and copyright of, Aundi Kolber.