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perfectionism

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A few years ago, I wrote an essay about smashing windows. Not actual windows. But the figurative windows that distort the ways that I feel about myself, the ways I feel about the world. I called it Frosted Window Syndrome, or the never-ending battle so many of us fight just…

Fairly early on in our marriage, my husband and I made the mutual decision – the merits of which I am not looking to hash out in this article – that one of us would stay home with our children while they were young. For several reasons, I assumed…

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. — Mary Oliver, from “Wild Geese” In March, our family…