I don't know about you, but my social media feed right now is filled with two things -- Taylor Swift's new album tease, and those perfect first day of school photos. It's honestly hard to know which of the two is more manufactured. I'll leave Taylor alone. I'm a Swiftie. I'm cool with that sort of manufactured experience. But, I'm not cool with the other: the endless parade of perfection: perfect parents with perfect kids on the perfect first day of school, all with matching outfits and homemade instagrammable lunches, hair brushed so smooth you could ice skate on it. And you have them in your feed too; heck, all summer long you probably were served up perfect family vacation photos of them in jeans and white shirts, holding heart hands over the setting sun. OK, don't get me wrong. And if that’s really them—fantastic. Really. Good for them. Bless their hearts. But, that was never my house. In my house, bedlam always reigned on the first day of school. Showers? Optional. Then, one year, I didn’t even get a first-day photo at all. Literally, my children, who are normally lovely human beings, were possessed by the devil I call First Day Anxiety, a perfectly normal human emotion. And, so they did what any perfect normal humans would do: they didn't stop bickering long enough for me to get that photo. (You can hear the whole hilarious, cringe-worthy story here.) And I was left with only one question: How was I going to prove to the world that I was the "World's Best Parent, juggling work, juggling life, with the greatest of ease, without that all important proof point of that Perfect Photo?!?" It was obviously the wrong question. I should have been wondering what was driving the anxiety. But, instead, I was too pressed into my own feelings of inadequacy to even realize that the day was about them, not me. It is too easy to fall into the comparison chasm, to try to keep up with the Joneses, listening to everybody’s advice about what success looks like and what we must do to achieve it, and how you must prove it. Somewhere between “Aww, cute!” and “Oh crap…” those pictures turn into a measuring stick. Not for them—for you. You start thinking: And that’s the trap. These are invented failures. You didn’t miss the mark—you let someone else move it. You let their curated moment convince you your messy, beautiful reality is somehow “less than.” It’s not. But the more we compete in the Having-It-All Olympics, the more we all lose. So, let’s get real. Politely step out of the race you never signed up for and start your own. Be your own dog. The one thing I know to be true this week is this: Stop comparing your bloopers to everyone else’s highlight reel. Those moments you call “failures”? They’re just life. Real, messy, glorious life. And the voices—online, in your family, in your head—that tell you otherwise? They don’t get a vote unless you give them one. The Other Kind of First Day Prep...While my own kids ruined the perfect first-day-of-school photo, I was recently on NBC talking about how your kids—especially your brand-new grads—can actually nail their first day on the job. Because let’s be honest: It’s not just about showing up. It’s about showing up ready. Watch the full segment here for tips to help your grads stand out for all the right reasons. What about going back to school yourself?Are you...
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