I’m back again. I’m back with questions and I’m wondering what answers will surface here. Putting your writing out there is scary and as a woman who has newly redefined what perfection means to me, I know that whatever is posted here will help someone in some way.
Let’s talk perfectionism…shall we? I’ve lived a lot of my life believing that I had to be perfect in order to be loved. I had to get things right or perfect before I could ever make the next step because…why? I don’t really know. I do know at the heart of it was that if I wasn’t good or right or perfect, I was unloveable.
Being unloveable to an infant means you’ll die. If someone doesn’t love you enough to pick you up or feed you or attend to your basic needs as an infant, you will die. Scary and harsh, but true.
At some point in my life, before I could really understand what being loveable meant, I put on a hat that said if I wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t loveable. And I wore the fuck out of that hat for many years and sometimes I still do, no lies. Being seen in an imperfect state is hard, it takes effort for me.
So within the past couple of years, I’ve redefined what perfect means to me. And I’m just now realizing that maybe I redefined what perfect meant so that I could still be perfect and I just reject imperfection as perfection. Life is funny that way. The games we play with ourselves are funny that way too.
It’s all just us trying to protect ourselves from dying, right? All these different hats we put on and all these identities we carry around, they’re just these little versions of ourselves that are too scared to be seen in an imperfect state. But who is to say what’s perfect and what’s imperfect? Who gets to decide such things about our lives? Is there a perfect-police somewhere?
Think about it too, my idea of perfection is being curled in my bed with my hubby and our kids watching TV. That might make some people want to vomit. Are they wrong for not seeing it as perfect? I don’t think so.
Perfect is a judgement, just like right and wrong or good and bad. And honestly, I think a lot of wounded people walk around dolling out their idea of those judgements without ever stopping to think that maybe their ideas aren’t here for everyone. They don’t suit everyone and they shouldn’t. I don’t want mine and your ideas of perfect to be the same because then everyone would be the same, right? And how fucking boring is that?
And to take it even further, 10 years ago, sitting in bed with my hubs and kids all day would have made my skin crawl. Then, perfect for me would have been sitting outside by the pool with my bestie with a drink in hand and another on the way. Perfection changes.
Perfection isn’t a standard because it’s a judgement. We don’t have to hold ourselves to other people’s judgements because theirs are different from ours…and thank God for it.
There are things I know I should be doing for each of my blog posts…SEO, titles, reading and re-reading to make sure there are no typos, etc., etc., etc.
But here’s the thing, I don’t want a “perfect” blog. I want my blog to be me talking, me getting my shit out, me sharing my perfectly imperfect journey in the hopes that other women relate.
So here I am world, not perfect and not even wanting to be.
Take me or don’t.