Perfect Imperfection

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Single Dad Laughing recently posted a post about perceived perfection and the problems with it.
He encouraged us to be real- that being perfect is a) not possible b) over-rated c) the quest of it is ruling so many lives.

As a woman, as a mother, more over as a person; I will here, freely admit I am not perfect. Though I try to be. So so so hard. I try and be perfect so that others will not see the flawed person that I am and judge me for it- as I judge myself.

The pressure for perfection never lets up. I try and try and try... and at some point the pressure to be perfect is to much and I give up. Giving up takes many different forms. Some times it is snapping at people, self sabotage, crying, total withdrawal--- any of these can signal that I have succumbed to the pressure of seeming perfect.

So what gives... why do I freak out so much about being or seeming perfect?? Fear. I am a coward about what would happen if I for a moment let myself seem one iota less than perfect. So many of those around me seem perfect all the time. I spent and still do spend a large portion of my life seeing others as 'perfect'; my mother who keeps everything organized and neat, my brilliant sister, my friends who have it all together. I don't have it all together. My 'all' is still scattered in the wind.

So I am not perfect. I sorely want to be. I try and I fail and then the cycle starts again. 'My best' will never be good enough. Myself will never be enough. I will never be pretty enough, thin enough, a good enough mother, a good enough friend, a good enough anything.. you know what?? What I am beginning to understand is that I am not the only one to feel this way. I am not the only one.

So what. Be real. Seems so simple. But what if in being 'perfect' you forgot how to be real. I am having to re-learn how to be real. Because being perfect took so much of myself and my life and I am out to reclaim it.

So here I will put a confession that may make you think less of me- it certainly makes me think less of myself:

A woman who in the past has been truly hateful to me and to several people I know is struggling with several things that are admittedly difficult to face and deal with. I have no sympathy for her. A large part of me thinks "there, serves you right for being such a wench". It is not how I want to feel. I want to be able to extend compassion to her in her time of need. I wish I could feel the genuine sympathy and compassion that I know I should. Right now though, I am not there yet. One day. Maybe one day, I'll be there.

So go be real- or learn what and who you are and be them imperfections and all. I won't judge you for it.

***typically I am anti cross posting but this one I thought could be an exception to the rule***


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