I am imperfect.
I write that, and I’m immediately struck by how vulnerable that sentence makes me feel. It’s not that I’m a perfectionist, at least I don’t think I am, but it’s acknowledging the fact that I’m not going to do the right thing all the time, and that’s scary.
I want to be right. I want to make the right decisions, follow the right path, say the right things, and not hurt anyone in the process. I don’t want to mess up. I don’t want to be a bad person. I don’t want to tip-toe through life, shy and afraid, but I don’t want to make so many painful mistakes that I start to hate who I am.
I want to be as close to perfect as possible.
And maybe that’s the childish part of me, the part that’s always tried to impress my parents and those around me, or fill the giant-sized shoes of the ideal person I created in my own mind. I’ve never wanted to perfectly toe the line, but I never wanted to be too far outside of it either.
I never wanted people to think I was flawless, but I didn’t want someone to look at me and see all the ways I didn’t measure up.
And maybe that’s why I love writing so much. Because in writing, the way you see yourself changes. You write things that maybe you wouldn’t say. You look at yourself through a mirror, through a magnifying glass, through a microscope and you pick through all the things about yourself that maybe most of the time you try to hide.
I find myself writing about my heart, writing about the way I love, writing about how I’m stubborn and independent and selfish. And maybe I write those things, but I don’t really acknowledge that those things make me imperfect, and that it’s okay to be imperfect.
It’s okay to be imperfect.
Maybe I need a reminder of that; maybe we all need a reminder of that.
I got called out on something I did the other night. It was a rude comment I made without thinking, without considering what my values are or the person I am and want to be. Getting called out made me feel foolish. It made me embarrassed. It made me feel a hundred emotions all at once. And it made me realize that no matter how hard I try, I’m not always going to say and do the right things. Sometimes I’m going to f*ck up and be hypocritical. Sometimes I’m going to piss people off. Sometimes I’m not going to measure up to the girl I’m trying to be.
But I can’t beat myself up for that.
I have to take a step back and acknowledge where I’m at. I have to realize when I’m wrong and be humble. I have to learn to forgive myself, because honestly, that’s the most important part.
And maybe these sorts of things happen for a reason.
We mess up, we falter, we do something wrong and we realize where we’re not measuring up. Then we forgive. And then we let go. And then we continue forward because you know what? Imperfection is inevitable. And the sooner we realize that, the sooner we’ll find ourselves and feel whole.
So this is my reminder to you, wherever you are today: You’re not perfect, and that’s okay. Smile. Let go. Remind yourself that you are human and flawed and beautiful. And continue on.