This is something that resonates with me and has done for a long time, almost as long as I can remember. For a shallow reason it's so important that I get it more than right, that in what I do I am perfect. I've given up things or refused to do things for fear of embarassing myself or not doing it perfectly. I've conformed to ideals and followed what others have said. I have bought a certain outfit in the past or make up because "it's perfect for your skin...makes you look thin... and really, what is that word "perfect"?
What does it really mean and by whose boundaries is the word "perfect" set?
Perfect is a figment of imagination and a long route to loneliness I think. Does being perfect at school lead to job satisfaction and lack of money worries? I don't think so. Does being a perfect partner lead to a life long happy marriage with a soul mate? I doubt it. Does being a perfect parent lead to offspring who never cry or pull a child's hair or get told off at school? Ha ha ha, show me them. Does looking perfect mean immaculately coiffed hair, perfectly styled and matched clothing and "the perfect figure" which changes weekly, but I think currently stands at being a size 2 or 4? Not remotely, beauty is from within.
According to the dictionary there are several definitions of the word "PERFECT" which, if you mix up the letter also spells Prefect (a person appointed to any of various positions of command, authority, or superintendence - presumably down to their perfectness!)
- conforming absolutely to the description or definition of an ideal type
- excellent or complete beyond practical or theoretical improvement
- thorough; complete; utter
- entirely without any flaws, defects, or shortcoming.
Beyond practical or theoretical improvement and thorough, complete? I am not complete, I am learning everyday, being a human being is being part of an evolution whereupon I frequently make mistakes and learn from them and strive to be a better person. So that shoots in the foot the theory that I would be without flaws then...
Honestly, I don't want to be without flaws. I think it really makes me who I am; I am that hot headed, impatient, opinionated, passionate, loyal to the death, mama bear type who often leaps in with her size sevens and realises later that things are best approached with a breath first.
Luckily, over the years I have become more comfortable with my imperfections, with the fact that I have a short fuse and an enormous opinion (I can control it, but I'm not perfectly self controlled!), the fact that I have thin lips and teeny tiny ears, the fact that I really can't abide "role playing" with my children, but do it out of duty because I love them, the fact that I didn't breastfeed all my children for a long time because I just had to stop, the fact that my house has dust in it that you can write your name in, the fact that I've never read anything by Jane Austen or have any yearning to start, the fact that I am NOT a size 2, 4, 6, 8, 10 or even 12 on the lower half and my boobs are heading south and I am very soft around the middle these days, the fact I have, on occasions, fed my children utter shit just because I am being lazy and plonked them in front of the telly to break up an argument...
What’s the greater risk? Letting go of what people think or letting go of how I feel, what I believe, and who I am?
I am therefore ridding myself of the burden of perfection and am going to enjoy revelling in the luxury of being "a good enough me".
Who is going to care anyway? You? My kids? My husband? or just me? I think we'll agree that it's likely only to be me.