I have spent a great deal of my life trying to be perfect. And no, I am not just saying that. I aspired for perfection. Whether it was the way that I wanted my towel hung on the rack; how my clothes fell on my body; or how I wanted to complete my work, I wanted perfection for myself.
And, for everyone else, for that matter.
When I was in that head space, I really left little room for error, for myself or for others. When I would make a mistake, as we humans do, I would feel terrible and think it made me a screw up. When I would be judgmental, or rude, or angry, I would pretend that I wasn’t really feeling or acting that way.
I not only wanted to feel perfect to myself, but to have others view me that way as well. So, I would give the impression of being patient, and kind and loving, and often, I was really feeling that way. But I never left any space for not feeling that way either. And, when I would deny that part of myself, it was like I was not allowing myself to be human.
I held others to the same standard as well. If those around me made a mistake, or were human in some way, I had such little patience for that, like making messes wasn’t allowed. It made big messes in my life as a result, with my relationships taking a hard hit, and those that I loved believing that I was unreasonable and cold because of my lack of compassion.
I have evolved that part of myself in many ways now. And, what I continue to learn every day, is that I am fully and undeniably a human being. As human beings, we are flawed. We make mistakes. We have false starts. We change our minds. We see other ideas and possibilities for ourselves that might not always be convenient, or preferred, but help us to go toward a happier existence for ourselves.
So, my current reality, is the embracing of the fact that I might not be perfect, but I am perfectly me. And, that is a great way to be.