the recovering perfectionist on vacation
It has been a whirlwind since the kids' school ended on June 27.
On the last day of school, we packed the kids in the car and drove to visit friends in southern Ontario for their annual start-of-summer party. From there, we drove straight up to the cottage for our first trip of the season. Then it was back to the city for Canada Day and an impromptu visit with our best friends just home from Singapore—leaving ourselves with only 48 hours to pack the car for our drive to PEI.
We then spent two days driving to Charlottetown, with stops along the way. We went with the flow, adjusting with the weather and our tolerance for more time in the car. The only thing that had been planned with any certainty was a visit with one of my favorite people, Mike Yerxa, in one of our country's most beautiful settings, Hopewell Rocks. We arrived in PEI on Saturday to meet my parents, my brother and sister-in-law to celebrate my mom's 70th birthday.
Our time in PEI was incredible. Our itinerary was flexible. We went with the flow and allowed the kids to do research and plan some of the activities. We had low expectations for what we wanted to accomplish, and so in the end, we had a really great time. This is the first time—maybe ever—that I can say I actually really enjoyed myself on our family vacation. I came home relaxed, somewhat rested even, and happy.
I cannot express to you how different this is from who I was a couple of years ago. In fact, I actually told my husband that I was really proud of myself. I was acknowledging how different I was this trip.We both laughed, but we know it's not a joke.
The Old Me Would Have Been a Disaster
Two years ago, just reading that pre-vacation schedule would have been enough to induce panic. Packing up the car and leaving right after school on the last day? Hopping from place to place like a nomad? Only giving myself 48 hours to prepare for a week-long trip?
It would have been a disaster. I never would have had the stamina. Don't get me wrong though—that wouldn't have stopped me.
The Kelly I used to know would have done all the things. She was a people pleaser, and had learned to put everyone's needs before her own. She also had (well, to be honest, still has) some serious FOMO (fear of missing out), so she would have crammed it all in. She would have put on a good show and so for the world outside, it would seem like she was having the best time. Inside, she was silently dying.
Inevitably, the cracks would begin to show. Her patience would run thin. First with her husband, then with her kids. She would be short with them, getting frustrated easily by little things. Eventually, she would have a complete meltdown: yelling, arguing, panic attacks, tears, regret, shame.
The reality was that most days, I was barely keeping my head above water. The weight of something new—anything extra, really—risked pulling me under. Vacations always felt extra. Hard.
To be clear, traveling with young kids is really just parenting on location. There might be a break from some of life's daily tasks, but you are not suddenly in the clear from all of your parental duties because you have changed geographic locations.
At that point in my life, I was also prone to assuming too much responsibility at home. 2023 Kelly had not yet read Eve Rodsky's Fair Play, which meant that even though her husband was willing to take on more, she struggled to let go of her attachment to how she expected tasks to be completed (i.e., she wanted him to do things her way). Taking a vacation meant that she researched the trip, planned the trip, prepared for the trip, and packed for the trip. It also meant that leading up to the vacation, she was a ball of stress.
This was just on the home front! This didn't factor in what needed to be managed at work before leaving on a trip. There were times when the old version of myself was up all night on my last day of work trying to wrap things up, and others when I worked through vacations... but I'll leave that for another time.
It was no wonder that by the time she actually left for vacation, she was a complete disaster!
So what is different now?
First, I did not strive for perfection. I did not plan out every single day. I did not have huge expectations about how everything would go. I stayed flexible. These are all things that are REALLY hard for me.
Perfectionism is a battle I have been fighting for a while. I was the kind of person who would rip the page out of her journal because she didn't like the way her cursive looked when she wrote out the date. Like as an adult. It is something that I have struggled with for as long as I can remember. It wasn't until I started to see perfectionism rear its ugly head in my oldest daughter that I realized things needed to change. She needed to see someone model something different for her. I have been working hard on self-compassion. Valuing progress over perfection. It is something that we talk a lot about at home.
Our week in PEI started with a trip to the emergency room. My oldest ended up getting diagnosed with walking pneumonia. Thankfully, because we didn't have an overly planned itinerary, we were able to roll with the punches. Initially she had been so sad about being sick, but it gave us space for lots of conversations about being able to stay flexible and make the most of the situation we were living. She and her sister were able to find activities that fit how she was feeling and were a ton of fun.
The second and likely most important difference is that I am not the same person I was two years ago. The biggest change is that I left my soul-sucking job that had me feeling trapped and burnt out. With enough distance from my Government career, I have come to realize that it was not the right environment for me. It was feeding my perfectionism and anxiety, creating a vicious cycle where I felt like I had to be "on" all the time, even during what should have been restorative family time.
I mean, I tried. Hard. I left on a six month burnout leave, I did everything I could to get healthy again. I returned to work with firm boundaries (the ones I was told I was lacking and likely led to my burnout) and felt ready to start again. I returned to a workplace that I was familiar with, one that accommodated my gradual return and eased me back into my role. I knew that the pace of work there would not be sustainable long-term, so I started looking for a new job. The reality was though, at my level, there was not really a position that would be able to meet my needs as a person with a disability. I considered a demotion. It would take dropping two levels to find the peace I was in search of. I knew I needed to leave.
The Journey to Letting Go
Leaving has been both the hardest and best decision I have made. It has changed so much for my family and me. This transformation didn't happen overnight. It has taken a lot of hard work and sacrifice, and not just from me. Here are some of the big changes I/we have made:
We scaled back how we live. Leaving my job was a big risk for our family. I know I am extremely privileged to have had my husband's support and the ability to first take paid leave. This decision required us to change many things in our life. Some of these things might not have been immediately apparent to those around us, but we needed to adapt to becoming a one-income family.
I have redefined what is important. I have spent a lot of time re-evaluating my priorities. There are many things I once deemed important that have now fallen off the list (e.g., having a spotless house is definitely up there!). I am someone who likes to live according to my values and so this has allowed me to better align with what truly matters to me.
I am learning to prioritize myself. Putting myself first is something that is incredibly difficult for me. I will find any and every excuse in the book to do something for someone else, before I will do something for myself. I am learning though, that this has come at an extremely high cost to the people that matter most to me. Slowly, I am working on putting myself first and I know that it will pay off.
I am learning to delegate without micromanaging at home. Reading Fair Play was a game-changer. I finally understood that asking my husband to take on a responsibility and expecting it done exactly the way I would do it was a recipe for civil unrest in our household. I needed to learn to be okay with his way of doing things. Being comfortable in discomfort is not exactly my strong suit but I am working on it.
The Ripple Effect
The most beautiful part of this has been seeing how it's affected my family. My kids are learning that it's okay when things don't go according to plan and that flexibility and adaptability are strengths.
Most importantly, though, my husband and I are actually enjoying our vacations instead of just surviving them. It might have been a little hectic, but we had so much fun. Most importantly, we made memories together as a family.
Sound familiar?
If you're reading this and recognizing yourself in the old version of me, please know that change is possible. You don't have to white-knuckle your way through family vacations. You don't have to carry the mental load of every single detail. You don't have to be perfect to be a good parent, partner, or person.
Start small. Pick one thing you can let go of on your next trip. Maybe it's the perfectly planned itinerary. Maybe it's the expectation that everything will go smoothly. Maybe it's the need to pack three weeks in advance.
Whatever it is, give yourself permission to be human. Your family doesn't need perfect—they need presence. They need you to be there, showing them that life's imperfections are often where the best memories are made.
