Throughout my lifetime, I’ve strived for perfection in every way imaginable.
Seeking the perfect weight, size and shape, or to be the perfect employee, girlfriend, daughter, grandchild, friend, wife. Starving, over-exercising, over working, over drinking, over caring… I’ve even had times where I believed or acted like I was a superwoman. Sure, I didn’t run into a burning building or jump from a roof to save someone, but I did believe I was invincible.
And then there’s everything else. Searching for the perfect job, career, relationship, house, place to live, salary… ARGHHHHH. Where did all that searching and striving for perfection get me?
If you read any comic book or watch any superhero movie, there’s always that moment where the protagonist is met with a reality check. Be it their own mortality, their inability to save someone or their defeat at the hands of a bad ass…without fail it always happens.
We all have our kryptonite.
Perfectionism was mine. No matter how many burning buildings I ran into or how many people I saved there was always one certainty. I would always come crashing back to Earth (and in all seriousness, I’ve experienced more than my fair share of crashes, both literally and figuratively), and I would always be left in a heap crying like a baby.
I’ll admit that as a proud and semi-reformer perfectionist and people pleaser, I’ve spent years beating myself up, starving myself, over-exercising, working too bloody hard and trying to live up to someone else’s expectations on top of my own. And do you know something. I’m exhausted AND I’m over it!
I mean, isn’t it exhausting?
That constant striving to be more, do more, or to just BE perfect. Well, have I got some BIG news for you! None of us were born to be superheroes. That even goes for the superheroes! Surrounded by persistent messaging to be the best, to look the best, to have the best, or to be the most popular, the fact that NO ONE is perfect nor was ever meant to be can be a hard fact to stomach but it’s 100% true.
I love my imperfect self!
Today I’m the first to put my hand up these days and admit that I am nowhere near perfect. I don’t have flawless skin – I suffer from adult acne with scarring to match, and am covered freckles and other lumps and bumps.My hair is dry, due for a reshape and riddled with split ends. As my 30’s draw to a close I’m also battling white hairs, a war I seem to be losing. I’m a size 12 and used to be an 8. I have loads of stretch marks – and I haven’t had kids. These set in in my teens and I’ve had what I call my ‘tiger stripes’ ever since. I also have a shit load of cellulite and puffy legs.
I have scars – both mentally and physically – after suffering from a few lengthy episodes of depression and long-term anxiety. I’m also an introvert, something I’ve struggled with over the years but now embrace, and I prefer the company of my dog to people. I fuck up more times than I like to admit. It takes me 5 days to reply to a text message. I have a messy house, and my grammar, spelling and punctuation leaves room for improvement even though I’m a writer.
I’ve blogged for nearly 6 years and compared to the time I spend on my blog I don’t have an awful lot of subscribers. I could be a better wife and step mum, sister, daughter and friend but I’m tired all the time. I eat way too much junk food, watch too much TV, and drink too much booze. And at times I’m a bloody mess.
But… I love me. I really do. I love my imperfect self.
Wow. It’s taken me 30-something years to be able to finally tell myself that and actually mean it!
What about you?
When was the last time you told yourself that you love you? Have you ever told yourself you love you?
If your answer is ‘it’s been a while‘, ‘no‘, or ‘never‘, then I want you to give yourself a big bloody hug as you need it!
I also want you to look at yourself in the mirror, and when ready, say ‘I love you’. Why? Because you need to hear it. [It will get easier the more you do it, so keep working at it!]
What I want you to take away from reading this post is this.
ALL OF US are flawed.
But do you know something?
Being flawed. Being imperfect, is more than okay. It’s actually bloody brilliant 🙂
Why, when we know that there’s no such thing as perfect, do most of us spend an incredible amount of time and energy trying to be everything to everyone? Is it that we really admire perfection? No – the truth is that we are actually drawn to people who are real and down-to-earth. We love authenticity and we know that life is messy and imperfect. – Brene Brown
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