Stitch & Roam

Okay, fellow crafters and life adventurers, let’s talk about the absolute bane of a crocheter’s existence: ripping out stitches. Ugh. Whether it’s a rogue count, a yarn tangle that looks like a cat’s personal abstract art project, or an alignment so off it belongs in a funhouse mirror, unstitching is my least favorite crochet chore. And honestly, it doesn’t matter if I’m wrangling a cute hair scrunchie (which, let’s be real, should be a quick win!) or wrestling with a queen-sized blanket for two – the sheer thought of unraveling makes my completionist heart weep. It’s like being forced to un-eat a delicious slice of cake. Unthinkable!

The Pandemic Productivity Paradox (and My Epic Fails)

This peculiar aversion to “redo” isn’t exclusive to my yarn-fueled obsessions. It’s a recurring theme in every hobby I’ve “explored” or, more accurately, “briefly dabbled in before spectacularly failing.” Remember the glorious, chaotic days of Pandemic 2020? The collective urge to “be productive” to avoid losing our minds amidst endless lockdowns? Yeah, I bought into that delusion harder than a yarn hoarder at a clearance sale.

My resume from that era includes:

• Painting: I managed to finish one painting in three months. Or maybe it was three years? The other canvases still stare at me, accusingly blank. I’m pretty sure my paintbrushes are now covered in cobwebs and existential dread.
• Piano Lessons: Paid for online lessons, then promptly ditched them to become a professional YouTube “finger pattern copier.” My virtuoso performances mostly involved pretending to play along to pop songs, hoping no one noticed the distinct lack of actual music emanating from my keyboard.
• Sewing: I bravely (and foolishly) tried to piece together old clothes with new fabric cutouts. The results? Let’s just say if “hideous” were an Olympic sport, my creations would’ve taken gold, silver, and bronze. My wardrobe still hasn’t forgiven me for the fashion atrocities.
• Fitness: My workout regimens lasted a glorious couple of weeks, maybe two months if I was feeling particularly self-flagellating. The painful movements and relentless discipline quickly reminded me that while working out is good for you, so is binge-watching Netflix with a bag of chips. Guess which one won?

The Perfectionist’s Predicament

As a human being (allegedly), I’m far from perfect. Yet, as a self-proclaimed “somewhat perfectionist,” I’m intensely critical. My inner monologue constantly chirps, “If I can do something about it, why would I settle for imperfection?” I set my standards higher than my yarn stash, and I’ve gotten pretty good at maintaining excellence. So, when a mistake happens – even an honest, accidental one – my brain screeches, “That’s not how I would do it!” and perhaps, less charitably, “My way is clearly superior to everyone else’s.” (Don’t judge, we all have our moments!)

But here’s the cold, hard, unraveling truth: mistakes, imperfections, and setbacks are as inevitable as tangled yarn. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist (or a master crocheter) to know this, yet truly accepting these faulty realities? That’s where the real unraveling begins.

My critical nature often turns inward. I find myself replaying scenarios, drenched in guilt and shame for being “wrong.” I weave insecure narratives about my worthlessness or, even worse, about others. I set the highest standards for myself and, admittedly, hold others to them too. Yet, my own honest errors become tough pills to swallow, harder to learn from. Don’t get me wrong, I’m devoted to learning and improving, but sometimes the sheer unendingness of this “continuous improvement” journey feels like an eternal toil, as if self-actualization is a distant, mythical destination I’m constantly chasing but never quite reaching.

The Glorious Reset Button

You see, ripping off crochet stitches means starting again. And what’s true for crochet is gloriously, messily true for life: experiencing mistakes and setbacks often requires a reset. We hear the old adage, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” But when you realize the potential vulnerabilities of a situation – say, a crochet top that won’t fit, an oval that looks suspiciously like a hexagon, or a yarn stash that’s become a chaotic, sleep-stealing monster – you gain the chance to reevaluate and do it better.

Refusing to rip those stitches (or ignoring life’s glaring errors) leads to a whole heap of unwanted outcomes. In life, skipping those crucial resets can lead to crappy relationships built on shaky foundations, a puffed-up sense of pride and entitlement, missed learning opportunities, and even betrayed trust. None of which are pleasant ingredients in our quest to become the best versions of ourselves. Unless your goal is to be a curmudgeonly hermit with an ill-fitting sweater, in which case, carry on!

We’re often taught that life is about reaching “self-actualization,” like it’s a final boss level in a video game where you hit a certain score, become rich and famous, and then…poof! You’re happy forever. But no one tells you about the rocky, yarn-tangled path towards those endpoints.

Perhaps life isn’t about reaching a fixed destination or a final graduation. Instead, maybe it’s a beautiful, messy series of unending beginnings. Each mistake leads to a new learning, and with new learning, come fresh possibilities and opportunities. It’s like an infinite crochet project, where every unraveled row isn’t a failure, but a chance to stitch something even more magnificent.

Rip That Stitch. Now!

So, rip that stitch off. Do it now, and do it soon, lest you create an even deeper ditch or have an even bigger tangled mess to untangle.

• Reflect: What went wrong? Why did it go wrong? Lay all your cards on the table.
• Evaluate: Ask yourself the hard questions. Look at the facts. Seek help if you need fresh eyes to see what you might be missing. (Sometimes, a friend pointing out your missed stitch is better than staring at it for an hour, convinced it’s supposed to be there.)
• Start Again: Now that you know why it was ruined, grab your hook (or your courage) and start correcting those stitches. Undoing mistakes isn’t just about stopping and reflecting; what truly matters is how we move forward, hook in hand, ready for the next beautiful (and occasionally unravelled) row.

What’s a “stitch” you’ve had to rip out in your life recently, and what did you learn from the glorious unraveling? Share your tales of triumph (and minor catastrophes) in the comments!