life tales

the imperfection of perfectionism

6 June, 2015

I am the first to admit that the most damaging trait that I used to (and to a much lesser extent still) possess was perfectionism. Whilst I had always been driven to do the absolute best that I could, it was not until working for a few perfectionists and going to uni that the extent of it came to fruition. Although it started with small things, after a while I felt myself not being quite content if what I was doing was not perfect. And so I pushed a little bit harder. My mind, my body… until I could not push anymore. The idea of perfection drove me to a point where I became a walking talking neon sign of my biggest weaknesses.  So I decided to let it go. 

It was only when I stopped chasing this ridiculous idea of perfection that I found balance and true contentment.  

That anything is perfect is an illusion. Yet so much of what we hear revolves around it. How many times have you heard about waiting for a perfect time, a perfect place, eating a perfect diet or finding the perfect man? Instead of chasing the subjective idea of “perfect” we should start chasing the idea of right. 

There may be no perfect time, but there is a right time. No perfect place, but a right place. No perfect diet, but the right diet for you. There may be no perfect man (although I know some guys who would disagree), but there is the right man. 

Sure, what’s right may only be based on what we know at the time. But we do the best that we can. And if things don’t turn out the way we hoped? We hurt, we learn, we grow and life goes on. 

I do not want perfect in my life. I want to be me. I want true. I want honest. I want real. 

Yes, I will always continue to put 100% into life and try to do my best and be my best self. To look outside myself and to always leave the world just a little bit brighter. 

But I accept that I make mistakes. I have bad hair days. I make typos (I try not to, but they are bound to happy when editing blog posts late at night – thanks for forgiving me for it). I have days when I let my old perfectionist standards of myself get to me. I forget people’s names. I speak without thinking. I wear odd socks. I make a total fool of myself. I eat too much yoghurt. I don’t call my sister enough. I have days when I get irritable. I change my mind about my career path. I drop half baked cakes all over the oven. 

But it’s all part of the joy of travelling through life.  

And although life may not be perfect, I am incredibly happy that it can still be excellent, wonderful, beautiful or delicious (I do refer to both men and food… what? I’m not perfect).


xx TTTIMG_2870

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