Perfection Is Overrated
I lived a majority of my life trying to be perfect. Be the perfect daughter, friend, student, employee. My room had to be perfect, nothing out of place. My junk drawer was perfectly organized. I had to be perfectly presentable. I could make no mistakes, have no flaws, have no quirks. My recovery had to be perfect. When everything did not match up to my impossible standards, I beat myself up and criticized myself to tears. As I have progressed further into recovery and authenticity, I have learned to embrace imperfection. I have come to completely accept it and love the quirks in me. Being perfect is honestly boring. A perfect life is uneventful. Where do you go from perfection? There is nothing left to be done, no risks to be taken, no new discoveries to be made. Perfection is stagnant, predictable, and dull. There is no opportunity for growth. We learn from our mistakes. We evolve from our mistakes. We develop into our authentic selves by the chances we take that could result in us flying or falling. Perfection is robotic. There is nothing unique or defining about it. There is nothing that makes us stand out from everyone and have qualities that only we can possess to bring light to this world. Perfection silences our true selves. It snuffs our inner light. The more perfect I tried to be, the more I moved away from the real me, the me that brought me happiness, the me that was full of dreams waiting to be made into reality, the me that was dying to be released. The more she was suppressed, the more the urges to engage in behaviors became. To let go of perfection was to let go of trying to control everything and allow my heart to have say in who I became. Imperfection is beauty.