Perfect

It’s a word that comes up in my mind, everyday, every hour…like almost every minute.

Perfection trots around in my mind on its high horse.  Taking the greatest pleasure in finding these things it calls flaws, pointing them out with narrowed eyes and a smirk.  Here’s what it says to me; Sorry you suck so much,  you poor, broken thing- you’ll never get it right, you must try harder. sheesh

STEP 1:  Me and my body go to work; trying to be better, toiling away, white knuckled, jaw clenched, laboring my feet and fingers to the bone… to be good enough to please perfection over there on its high horse.

STEP 2:  Until one day I look up at Perfect on its high horse and say…Ya know Perfect?, Fuck You and your perfectionistic smirk.  If my good enough isn’t good enough… I’ll just eat  a whole bunch of this left over Halloween candy, watch a movie, drink some wine, stalk people’s pictures on facebook, eat a huge bowl of popcorn, go shopping, stuff myself with a burrito, find other people to yell at, complain, ask other people to be perfect, look for flaws in other things and people… There! Like I said, fuck you perfection!

STEP 2a:  Or, sometimes it works like this.  I skip step 2 altogether, staying firm at step 1(teeth clenched, smile in tact-dammit).  I don’t actually tell Perfection to fuck off, my body does, by getting a slight cold or the flew or an injury that prevents me from walking. – jeez.

But here’s what I figured out about Perfection.

Perfect: A weapon I use against myself

I fashioned this weapon… and I emphasize I.  Yes, I created the weapon.  Then I proceed to beat myself with it. Makes no sense- right?  Here’s my crazy thinking, If I meticulously find all the things that are wrong (about me) and look at them with severe disdain, and beat the “crap” out of me… THEN I’ll be good, then I can be better, then I can finally get it right.  Problem is… when I really break it down, it backfires… every time… guaranteed.  I don’t get what I want.  I end up feeling…well… crappy.

Put down the weapon. Back away.  Arms and hands open. Surrender.

Turns out, you cannot threaten and beat yourself into reaching your goals.  Well, you might, but you won’t be able to keep up the battle, long term.

Since I created my ca-razy definition of perfect (and realize- it sucks)… I am redefining it

Perfect: ….hmmm…er, ehhh… I can’t seem to find the “perfect” words here… and that’s okay.  It’s more of a feeling; Awesome perhaps.  Sometimes it’s a quiet, inner awesome and other times it’s a big, honkin’, loud awesome. Either way… somehow it’s all good.

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One Response to Perfect

  1. Peggy says:

    This is a wonderful narrative on perfectionism! Angie, you are such a gifted writer…thanks for the perspective and for remiding me that “its all good.”

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