Perfection. An unobtainable standard to strive for. A fiction word. A fabricated goal that will drive you absolutely mad if you try to reach. An idea created to seep into the minds of the innocent and teach them how not to love themselves. A billion-dollar industry that makes its profits off of gorgeous human beings that are completely blinded of their utter beauty.
Perfection is NOT real. Not real. Not real. Not real. You will never be perfect. And that is okay; you’re not meant to be. You’re meant to be imperfect, and that is one of the reasons you are so lovely. Hear me loud and clear, you ARE lovely. Regardless of your so-called flaws, or what society tries to tell you is wrong with you. It’s all a lie. Complete with detailed descriptions of things that we need to change and a road map that lead to nowhere except pain and heartache. Your imperfections are beautiful. Besides, perfect is boring anyways. Imperfect is much more exciting, much more raw, and much more real.
These are the things I must constantly remind myself of. I am a recovering perfectionist. Yes, I’m serious. Perfectionism is something absolutely debilitating, and getting better from it is a process. Recovery from the pressure to be perfect is a process. A process that takes time, hard work, and help from someone or something bigger than yourself.
Perfectionism will kill you. You will be fixated on the mindset of “I will be perfect or die trying.” And that is a very exhausting place to live. It’s not really a place of living at all. There is no life in perfect. There is only darkness, disappointment, and death. That sounds a bit extreme, I know. But what’s even more extreme is the idea that we must be flawless, absolutely incapable of making mistakes, and living a life of absolute perfection.
We live in a world where there is so much pressure from every angle to be perfect, that we begin to suffocate under the weight of it. The only way out of the suffering suffocation is through truth.
So here is the truth: you will never be perfect. Big pill to swallow I know. But also, an incredibly freeing statement to realize. Once you know that you will never be perfect, you can start the process of healing. You can stop striving for something so deceitful. You can stop living a lie.
Perfect walks like a person, talks like a person, and acts like a person. But it’s not. It never has been and it never will be. Those we idolize as perfect are struggling with their own battles. Any image of perfect we see is simply a mirage, because there is more to it than what meets the eye.
I am a recovering perfectionist. So what exactly does it mean? It may mean giving up the idea of being perfect. But what it also means, is freedom. It means happiness. It means love, and it means life. And life, life feels a hell of a lot better than perfect ever will.
Where did this idea that you must be perfect even come from? Why do so many of us believe that it’s something we must achieve? I don’t know. Some might say it’s because of the media, other might say it’s a means of the devil. What you believe is up to you. I’m not here to tell you where perfect comes from, but I am here to tell you it’s not real.
What is real, is you. Your imperfect self. Perfection may be a painted picture of what beautiful is. But, if you ask me, being you, being real, is an unbelievably beautiful thing to be.
We need to stop. We need to stop trying to bend and mold our way into a cookie cutter outline of perfection. We need to stop starving ourselves into our prom dresses, and berating ourselves if we don’t get straight A’s. We need to stop beating ourselves up if we make a mistake at work, or if we miss a shot on our basketball team.
What we need to do is love ourselves. We’ve all got a little rebel in us, and rebelling against the pressure to be perfect is the most rebellious act we could ever do. So stop rebelling against your body, your mind, and your spirit. And start rebelling against perfect. Let’s start a revolution, the revolution of self-love. Love is louder than perfect. Love conquers, love heals. And love, love is the closest thing to perfect we’ll ever be.