Today I was doing some craft, trying yet again to make a glitter and resin tumbler.
It’s my fourth time. Actually, fifth, if you count the time I tried to make my nieces some tumblers (they were my first attempts and were umm… something).
While I was sanding the tumbler and getting cranky looking for lumps and bumps everywhere (sigh), I had a few realisations:
- My need for perfection in craft gives me anxiety.
- My anxiety means that I don’t enjoy what I’m doing.
- No one said I had to enjoy resin tumblers.
- No one is expecting perfection from me.
- I shouldn’t let anxiety steal my joy.
- I’ve whinged about this on my blog multiple times already.
Ultimately, I realised I’ve completely lost my way with crafting.
I’ve forgotten why I do it.
I started with craft because I wanted to make gifts for people. I wanted to personalise things, and in my own way, show them that I love and appreciate them.
I truly believe in “it’s the thought that counts”.
When I receive gifts from people that they’ve made me, not once have I ever turned them over, looking for imperfections. That’s an asshole thing to do, right?
I’m not an asshole.
And neither are my friends and family.
So… let’s kick out the anxiety brain that’s lying to me. The voice that’s telling me that the project that I spent hours on isn’t good enough, or that they won’t like it.
I need to shift the narrative in my brain. I need to look at my project, the project that I spent hours on, and be excited about the gift.
I need to be excited for the moment that I get to show it to them, and say “look, I made this for you!”
Be gone, anxiety. You’re not stealing my joy, not today, Satan.
Instead, I’m going to stand back, look at what I’ve done, and be proud that I chose to spend my time celebrating loved ones. I’m going to think about how I’m so lucky to have those types of people around me to celebrate.
And I’m going to remember that I’m a work in progress. It’s why I created the 52-in-52 goal to celebrate imperfectionism.
No matter how this project turns out, I did good.
I’m not an asshole, and neither are they.
Have you ever made someone something handmade and then almost talked yourself out of giving it to them? Or have you ever received something handmade? How did you feel when you received it?
Update:
After I wrote this post, I went and cleaned the bathroom, and wrote some updates in my planner.
Then I went back and looked at the tumbler, drying on the turning device.
What a difference 30 minutes makes, along with writing a cranky blog post to get my thoughts out of my head.
I can now see that if someone gave that to me, I would be stoked. Sure, I can see the imperfections in it, but they are insignificant compared to the rest of it. I truly am now excited to gift this to someone!
To you, thanks for reading my cranky posts, and I promise that my next one will be much happier than this!
