I am a type A personality.

This can mean a variety of things to different people, so let me break it down as to what this looks like for me.

I like things a certain way. I like things clean, organized, and sanitary. I wouldn’t consider myself a perfectionist though—that part of me had to die when I had kids because believe me, nothing is ever perfectly clean, organized, or sanitary. I’m lucky if things can be mostly clean, organized, and sanitary for at least some of the time.

But anyway.

I also want things to make sense and be clear. I put a lot of effort, energy, and thought into most of the things I do, say, and believe. I really do try to do my best at everything and be a good person. I always try to do the right thing.

Being this way can at times make me feel a bit frazzled by people who aren’t the same way. People who aren’t as methodical, or organized, or considerate—they can be incredibly irritating to me. When people like that are just living their own lives and it isn’t affecting me, that’s one thing. I couldn’t care less, so long as they aren’t hurting others. But when I’m around people who are not quite up to my personal standards, and they’re directly affecting me and my life (even in seemingly small ways), I can easily get overwhelmed and frustrated.

The sense of helplessness is what gets me. I feel helpless because I know that I’m doing my best, but the other person clearly isn’t, and this is causing problems for me that I have no way to fix. I can only keep my side of the street clean—so when the street is a mess despite my best efforts, because other people aren’t doing their part… well, that’s a sucky feeling.

I’m trying to survive in a world where everything isn’t always as it should be, because other people tend to… well, suck. I have to consciously remind myself that I am not responsible for other people’s behavior or feelings or opinions. I have to remind myself that other people are going to do whatever they are going to do, and I have to be able to roll with the punches.

As such, one of my mottos in life is that you can’t control others; you can only control yourself.

This all feeds into a philosophy I try to embrace in my life, which I like to call “radical acceptance.”

I have not heard this term anywhere else. I came up with it to conceptualize a philosophy that I’ve been trying to cultivate in my life. In a nutshell, radical acceptance means seeing the good in people and circumstances while also accepting the bad parts without judgment. For strangers or general people in our lives, it means being non-judgmental, forgiving, and compassionate. For ourselves and the people close to us, it means choosing to love and support unconditionally. For our circumstances, it means finding gratitude and remaining hopeful without requiring perfection.

Radical acceptance means choosing to accept others with all their differences, faults, and flaws. It often means choosing to forgive things that are unfair, unkind, or uncool. It means giving grace instead of harboring resentment. It means being the bigger person, without getting a big head. It means deescalating even when it would feel more satisfying to stick to my guns.

It means loving the people in your life just as they are, instead of needing to fix or change them to make them loveable. It means accepting yourself for who you are—the things you are good at, the things you struggle with, your quirks, your unique needs, your passions and interests, and everything else that makes you who you are. 

To put it most simply, radical acceptance means letting go. To radically accept someone or something, you must let go of control and the need to change or fix it. It is what it is, and you accept that. Or, to put it another way, radical acceptance means caring less about things that don’t truly matter.

Trying to be a person who embraces radical acceptance is challenging for me. I idealize it, though, because I have come to realize that a lot of my life is spent focused on fixing. I see problems with myself, with others, with things in my life, and I immediately go into fixing mode. I want to solve the problem, make changes, and make it better. In theory this sounds like a good thing, but in reality, I have found it to be exhausting, defeating, and depressing. It is not easy for me to simply accept imperfection and sit in it. It’s against every instinct I have.

But the urge to continuously improve is not bringing me happiness. It’s bringing me hopelessness, more than anything. Life will never be anything close to perfect. Even at the point in my life where things were outwardly the most perfect that I could have imagined, I wasn’t truly happy. I had an easy and happy marriage, three wonderful kids, a gorgeous house, financial stability, time and energy to work on my writing, reasonable support to pursue my hobbies and interests, a secure plan for my future, good relationships with my extended family, a sense of community and friendship in my day-to-day life… basically everything that makes up a “good life” was there. But it wasn’t enough. I was at the summit and there was nowhere to go but down. And so down I went.

My life now is much further from “perfect,” although beautiful in its own way. Still, I often find myself wondering if I ruined my life with the choices I made. But the truth that’s even scarier to admit is that regardless of my circumstances, I have never really been satisfied. Nothing is ever enough, and I am afraid it never will be. Why? Maybe because I haven’t learned to just accept things as they are without trying to change them.

Radical acceptance is possibly just a desperate ploy to stop the endless reaching. Will it work? I have no idea. In a lot of ways it feels like defeat, complacency, and giving up on ever being happy. And this is why I have spent months working on this post trying to gather my thoughts enough to put together something coherent. Because what am I even trying to say?

But I think what I’m trying to say is that I suspect this idea of radical acceptance just might be the key to me finding peace. Because even though it may seem like “giving up” in some ways, it’s really more about giving up things that don’t truly matter so that I can better focus on the things that do. I want to do my best in life, and I want to believe that most people are probably doing the same. And I want that to be enough.

It is so hard to truly believe that I am enough, and that other people are enough, and that my circumstances are enough. Because other people can really suck sometimes, and circumstances can really suck sometimes, and if we’re being honest then the truth is that I can really suck sometimes too.

Anyone who has seen the new Inside Out movie can probably understand what I mean when I say that I want it to be true that I am a good person even with my flaws. “I am a good person,” is a powerful belief, and shouldn’t be incompatible with the multitude of facets we all have within us. I am kind and I am mean and I am smart and I am stupid and I am brave and I am scared… but I am still a good person, right? Right?!

But much like Riley in the movie, I am finding it difficult to accept myself as a good person because the loudest voice in my head is telling me that I’m not good enough. That’s where radical acceptance comes into play. If I can just embrace that, I could maybe hold onto the believe that I am good enough. Not just good enough, but good and enough.

The reality is that nobody can be expected to do better than their best. And only I can know if I am doing my best. Maybe the point is that we all need to stay in our own lane, because we are in no place to judge other people in that regard. So instead of passing judgment, we can just accept. We can accept ourselves and others as worthy of love, and forgiveness, and the opportunity to keep growing.

For practical purposes, boundaries are what we use to keep ourselves and others safe, but we don’t have to apply a value judgment when we set a boundary. We can say “I won’t let this person do this to me (or others); this is my boundary and the consequence for breaking it will be ____.” We can say that without saying “you broke my boundary, so you are not acceptable. Nobody should love you, forgive you, or care about you. You are a bad person.” Sure, saying those things might feel good because they make us feel powerful against those who make us feel powerless. But that isn’t our place, is it?

Certainly we don’t need to love and forgive everyone, and especially not those who have hurt us. But we can accept the situation; accept what happened, and that it’s over, and that we don’t have to stay there anymore. We can accept that they are who they are, and that it’s really none of our business whether they are doing their best or not, because we are moving on and away from them.

Boundaries are really what makes radical acceptance a safe and healthy option. Respectfully setting and enforcing boundaries is vital to caring for yourself and avoiding co-dependence; because radical acceptance shouldn’t mean becoming a doormat, accepting injustice, or being complacent.

The goal of radical acceptance is not to give up or give in, but to keep moving forward, propelled by tenacious peace that comes from within. That is peace that is not fragile or dependent on external forces. That is peace that nobody and nothing can take away.