“Something’s gotta give,” Micke thought after she failed several of her college courses last semester. Between church, homeschooling, her own college courses, and caring for her four kids alone while her husband was away with the Navy, something really did have to give.

And something did give. Her desire for perfection.

“My life is crazy. My floor is dirty, I have piles of laundry. But I am happy because I know that I am a daughter of God.”

A few months ago, Micke felt the prompting to go back to school. She spoke with her husband and he said, “If it’s a prompting you need to follow it.” So she signed up for classes and failed miserably. Micke felt her failure was actually part of the prompting, “If I had not failed, I would not have been able to I realize that I was overwhelmed.”

Micke decided to stop homeschooling her children and enrolled them in public school. “After I enrolled my kids in public school, I felt better about all of the issues I had with my children’s education. I wanted the opportunity to teach my kids to be independent learners, and I got that opportunity during the years I offered homeschooling to my children. After a few days in the new school, my fears about them adjusting were gone. My fears about them being behind were gone. We got some really great teachers. I hit it off with them immediately. The kids made friends right away. To me that was that was a confirmation that I had made the right choice. I definitely know that enrolling my kids in public school was the right choice for my family, so I am so thankful for that prompting.”

When asked what she really wanted to share with other women Micke replied, “I want to let other women know that there isn’t a perfection standard. Just because my house isn’t perfect or dinner is not a five-course meal does not affect my worth. That does not change how Heavenly Father sees me. I feel like I have reached that point, that I am in a season in my life with my husband gone, and me alone, that it comes down to me and Heavenly Father. I’ve reached a point where I’m at peace with myself and what God feels about me.

“I understand the feelings of inadequacy women have,” Micke continues. “I’ve looked across the aisles at church and school and seen families whose kids are well-behaved and their husband is home and they are all dressed immaculately, and I’ve thought, “Why isn’t my life like that?” But now, I’m OK with the fact that my situation is different than theirs. It all goes back to my priorities. Is it more important that my floor is spotless or that I sit down and play a board game with my kids? Is it more important that dinner is made from scratch or we got to sit together and read books, or take the dog for a walk or went for family bike rides? In 10 years from now I want my kids to remember how we watched movies every Friday night and ate popcorn until we passed out. If I relieve one woman’s perfection burden today, than I will have achieved my goal with this interview.”

When asked what it means to be a Mormon Woman Micke responded, “Being a woman in the Church, I feel like I have a better understanding of who I am, why I’m here and what my purpose is. I have a better understanding of how important my role as a mother is. I have a better understanding of what an impact I have as a mother to my children in teaching them the gospel foundation I set for them in their lives and how important that is. I feel like I have a better understanding as my role as a wife. I am a partner to my husband. We know that our marriage doesn’t end here when we die. Knowing that there is something else after this life for our marriage makes me want to work harder here to make my marriage better. I think that those aspects of our religion are huge for me personally. I think it has given my life more purpose because I know there is a reward for the hard work here.”

Micke has lived her entire life in Wisconsin, USA and currently lives on the outskirts of Milwaukee. She has been married to her husband, Justin, for 11 years and has four children ranging from 9 years to 9 months. Justin is currently serving in the United States Navy as an airman and is considering moving forward into Officer Candidate school.

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Recently, I entered a local restaurant and was greeted by a young man named Dave. He enthusiastically opened the door for me. As I scanned his name tag and the uniform for the restaurant, I recognized he was the greeter. He said “Welcome to our restaurant — and might I add you look ravishing tonight!” He took my hand and landed a great big kiss on it. I blushed, and smiled, and laughed. I replied “Well thank you so much.” Somehow with Dave I couldn’t dismiss him. Which is what I usually do when people compliment me (it makes me feel oh, so uncomfortable!).

But Dave was sincere and he hadn’t let go of my hand. To which he replied “I really am serious, you look ravishing,” and he gently patted my hand with his other and let me go. I continued to watch him greet others while I waited to add my family to their waiting list. He gave each person that entered and exited this restaurant the same time and attention he did to me — teasing the older men by sticking his hand out to give them five then quickly pulling it away with a hearty laugh, greeting each person young and old. He took the time to make each person feel special, acknowledged, and important.

Dave has Down Syndrome. He is not bothered with the standards of the world as we often can be. And I, in this moment, was blessed by Dave and taught a very important lesson — to remember and see myself and those around me through more uncluttered eyes, more like the eyes of my Heavenly Father. To take the time to see more as He does.

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I’ve been thinking lately, I really think it’s fun to be me. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s not always easy, exciting ,or flashy, but for me, it’s fun.

It struck me the other day as I was finishing up my cycling class. We were on our last “hill,” I was tired, sucking for air, and soaked. Suddenly I felt a rush of gratitude. Gratitude that I could feel that way. Gratitude that I had the ability to feel that way. I thought, someday I will not be able to do this, I will only be able to remember and talk about doing this…(probably to people that won’t really care that I did this.) So, I felt happy in my misery and it was fun.

I love to be a mom of seven children. It is so funny to me to think that seven people call me mom. I would have never guessed I would have had a large family. Never. But I am so happy about it. It doesn’t seem like that many really. They are all people I love to be with. I love them all. They are fun.

My kids play sports. They always have. To organize schedules and attend soccer and softball games is something I’ve done for 20 years now. I sit and enjoy the games. I am sad when I see parents who can’t just sit and enjoy. It’s fun to just sit and enjoy.

I have a husband that makes my life easy. He has always let me be me. Never has tried to change me. He is kind, easy going, fair, and always gives you the benefit of the doubt. He laughs at my goofiness. He works hard. He is helpful and just a plain good man. His love is consistent. Through poor (and a little less poor) marathon body to pregnant mega mom body, he has been my number one fan. Because I have him, and love him, it’s fun to be me.

It’s fun to be me because as a Mormon woman, I know who I am. I know why I’m here, what life is about. When you know that, it gives you perspective on everything else. It’s fun to have a sure measuring stick for life. It’s not fun to have to guess. It’s fun to know.

In a strange way it’s good to be me because I know I can be better. I am familiar with my weaknesses. They are not hard to figure out for me. They are obvious, and I claim them as my own. It’s good to be me because I know they don’t have to be permanent. It is fun to be me because I have faith and hope in my life because of the Savior.

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In today’s society we are supposed to be sorely afraid of aging. I mean SORELY, as in going through massive amounts of pain (and money) to look younger than we are. I think this is messed up. Age has it’s benefits. Not that I’m over the hill or anything, but I’ve got a few years on me. My husband and I will celebrate our 17th anniversary this summer. I am a mother to four children, the oldest being 14. There are qualities that come with those years I wouldn’t trade for anything. So I warn you in advance, I will be keeping my wrinkles to prove it.

Today I realized one of those qualities, gained from the passage of time – I no longer have an urge to prove my worth. Seriously. There have been times in my life I claimed this, not true then. I did hope to make it true though.

The number of hours and overburdened thoughts that went into proving my worth: inestimable. Everyone was a participant in my value contest: family members, friends, church leaders, casual acquaintances. I wanted everyone to like me; it felt necessary for them to like me and to think I was an amazing person. Now I know that to be happy = truly being myself. Which means I cannot be happy guessing what other people think I should do, so that they will think I am good.

It has taken me this many years to realize what Popeye told me all those years ago on Saturday morning cartoons, “I yam, what I yam!” (translation for you non-Popeye speakers: “I am what I am!”)

This is me (not the yam!). I’m a work in progress. I don’t claim perfection. I’m doing the best I can. I think you’re doing the best you can too – so let’s just get along. If you don’t want to get along, I’ll do what I can to find common ground because I like people.

Honestly, not feeling the need to prove myself may have come from more than just the sheer accumulation of years. My chronic health problems have pulled me down a peg or two and opened my eyes to the fact that I wasn’t fooling anyone. And if I was, I don’t have the energy or time to continue foolin’.

For example, yesterday when my niece exclaimed, “I can’t sit on that chair, it’s all sticky!”

I smiled and said, “Sorry sweetie, we have a lot of kids in this house, things get sticky.”

That was the moment I knew something had changed inside of me. Because the old me would have rushed over with a sponge, embarrassed, coming up with some story of having pancakes that morning or something. It is what it is. I do hope that people won’t put off visiting with us because they get stuck to the chairs!

Another factor in my calling it quits to the value game is my relationship with God. I’m no saint, I’ve got a lot of work to do (some days I wonder how He looks upon backward progress). But, I know He looks at a person’s desires, at their heart, in the grand scheme of things. He is the only judge that really matters. And honestly, I don’t feel much judgment coming from Him, mostly love and encouragement (sometimes by way of a kick in the pants).

Don’t get me wrong though. I still care about others’ feelings and their comfort in my home. I care that I am a friend. I just don’t base my value as a human being on it any longer.

So now that we’ve come to the end of this and you are sick of hearing about me, I will say:

You do know all of this applies to you, too. Keep your wrinkles, stop overthinking what others think, you’re a work in progress, find a way to be OK with God and let’s just enjoy sticking to each other’s kitchen chairs. Because in the end there’s no proving it, it is a known fact – you are worth something. A lot, in fact.

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