To the Stupid Perfectionist -I’m Her
I am such a dumb perfectionist who didn’t realize that I was not even doing that well and how ‘perfection’ is honestly such a stupid idea and endeavour. The idea of a ‘perfect’ woman has been taught to me since I was a baby. Sit, talk and walk this way. Women talk, walk and exist this way. The worst is when the statement starts with ‘ a good woman.’ The world is so obsessed with who and what a ‘good woman’ should be!
Everything about her is challenged not just on magazine covers (media) but in intimate spaces like her home, bedroom, or even the office. I know ya’ll relate.
I have been scared to even breathe. Walking around holding my breath all the damn time and my teeth clenched in case I also end up doing that wrong. Of course, it’s not wrong as defined by me but by my friends, society, religion, parents and the husband I probably haven’t met. Dorsila does not wake up in the morning. The crazy being that wakes up is the girl that is holding on to getting it ‘right’ and making everyone else comfortable. The stupid perfectionist. The yes girl who does not disappoint. I leave the real, raw and undiscovered me sleeping and walk through the world trying my very best to blend and still stand out by trying to be like everyone else. The irony. This girl is convinced that she is not safe and will not be accepted in a world that cries for authenticity but only the kind that fits into whatever box constructed by society. The prime and proper that is desperate to keep structures that may no longer be serving her standing.
I am sitting at a java enjoying a hot cup of vanilla latte (my favourite) on one of my many solo dates and I ask myself how I want to be remembered. Perfect did not make it to my list. I love reading memoirs and biographies. I don’t enjoy them because they lived perfect/easy/predictable lives. I love reading them because I see human. I see myself and my struggles reflected in their lives. I see the disappointment and pain but I also see the love stories, bravery, pleasure and wonder of life. I see the struggle of fitting in versus living wild and truthfully. I love the fact that even the greatest and admirable people still have things they would not lead with on a first date. It allows us to extend grace not only to ourselves but to others as well.
I just realized how it’s easier to read and be understanding of other peoples imperfect lives than it is for us to extend the same grace to ourselves and those closest to us. It reminds us that living an honest and authentic life is uncomfortable, hard and might rub others the wrong way. Especially those closest and dearest to us. How dare you decide how you want to live this life? How dare you listen to your inner knowing? How dare you trust yourself? How dare you make mistakes and learn? How dare you believe that you will survive the worst of this life that might I add is inevitable?
In my crazy and stupid pursuit of perfection, I deny both pain and pleasure. I never say when it hurts and never acknowledge or allow room for pleasure. Everybody around me is meant to be happy and comfortable apart from me. The good woman narrative. I remember after a long day of cooking and hosting guests at home I would complain to my mom about how exhausted I am and express desire to join in on the fun.
In my crazy and stupid pursuit of perfection, I deny both pain and pleasure. I never say when it hurts and never acknowledge or allow room for pleasure. Click To Tweet
The crazy thing is that even after joining in on the fun, I still would not allow myself to have a good time. I would be busy looking at who needs a refill of their glasses and may not be comfortable. (Some people read in on this as wife material) I deny the fact that I am tired and want to join in on the pleasure. I end up pleasing and trying to be the ‘perfect’ pick me, woman. I hope we can all see through this nonsense that we have normalised. I sure as hell see through it. There is nothing cute about a woman who is always abandoning herself and self-sacrificing to keep up with an idea of ‘ a perfect woman’ that will always be changing and shifting to whatever society is on. Are we saying that women cannot be nurturing without sacrificing themselves? Is that what society is saying? How is this even healthy?
I can acknowledge my pain and be carried away in pleasure. It is okay. The world will not end and anyone who needs their glasses refilled might as well stand and refill their damn glasses. Perfection is such a stupid idea. Yes, I said it. No, there is no perfect, skin, body, relationship, man, woman, mother, father, work, home or life. Let’s not even talk about social media. At this point, I hope we all can agree that a perfect life can only be acted out. And even that is still not perfect.
The next time you feel a swelling in your heart that you need to be perfect to live, build, love and exist fully in this world, please remember to call out the foolishness in that idea. The next time you feel shamed for not having a perfect life, love, body or anything please remember that perfect does not exist. If you feel paralysed by perfectionism, I hope this post gives you the nudge you need to come up for air and un numb yourself. I am right there with you.
Stay Relatable Forever!
With so much love….
