Perfection is something that I actively sought after. I used to stand in front of my mirror and just stare at myself, knowing that someone as hideous as myself shouldn't even be alive My hair was always a long tangled mess, my teeth were literally aching for braces, and my feet were entirely too big for my twelve year old body . I was the perfect example of the unsightly, nerdy girl everyone pretended to be friends with in order to cheat off her papers. I remember crying myself to sleep every night and repeatedly asking God why I couldn't be perfect, as the years went by, I didn't get an inkling of an answer, so I took my fate into my own naïve hands. Little by little I began to change all of the things I originally hated about myself until I became the perfect girl, the girl I thought I was supposed to be.
I taught myself that in order to be successful, I had to be perfect. I had to let go of my fears and unsavory habits in order to make something worthy of myself. After secretly dragging myself through a couple of angst -ridden years, I began to understand that it was impossible for me to hold back my very being in order to reach success. While my aspirations and accomplishments wrapped me in a cloak of importance I believed really described who I was, I realized that all of my fears and horrible habits I had brung out the most intimate parts of me. They were the entirety of my humanity.
I could finally revel in seeking intelligence while making as many mistakes as possible along the way. It was okay that I despised wearing bright colors because they reminded me of my sisters and their hyperactivness. I was allowed to fear wearing hats, not only because they ruined my hair, but because I got pelted by an overzealous bird whenever I did. I accepted that most of my friends considered me the childish one because I'd sing and dance to famous Broadway plays in Wal-Mart, but I'd never stand in the dark by myself. I could be proud of the fact that I only ate pizza with ketchup and refused to eat bananas in it.
All of the little things I used to hate about myself created a vibrant collage that blended all of my fears, accomplishments, and habits together, not to create one bland color, but a multitude of colors both bright and dark, and determined and hopeless. I gave birth to the perfectly imperfect version of myself. Today, I look as unusual as I did when I was younger, but I embrace my awkwardness for what it is. Today, I ask God what new lesson he will allow me to gain insight from. Today, I look into that same mirror and instead of feeling the imminent pit of despair I had often felt, I am cradled in the light, welcoming arms of my own acceptance.
Did I do good?
I taught myself that in order to be successful, I had to be perfect. I had to let go of my fears and unsavory habits in order to make something worthy of myself. After secretly dragging myself through a couple of angst -ridden years, I began to understand that it was impossible for me to hold back my very being in order to reach success. While my aspirations and accomplishments wrapped me in a cloak of importance I believed really described who I was, I realized that all of my fears and horrible habits I had brung out the most intimate parts of me. They were the entirety of my humanity.
I could finally revel in seeking intelligence while making as many mistakes as possible along the way. It was okay that I despised wearing bright colors because they reminded me of my sisters and their hyperactivness. I was allowed to fear wearing hats, not only because they ruined my hair, but because I got pelted by an overzealous bird whenever I did. I accepted that most of my friends considered me the childish one because I'd sing and dance to famous Broadway plays in Wal-Mart, but I'd never stand in the dark by myself. I could be proud of the fact that I only ate pizza with ketchup and refused to eat bananas in it.
All of the little things I used to hate about myself created a vibrant collage that blended all of my fears, accomplishments, and habits together, not to create one bland color, but a multitude of colors both bright and dark, and determined and hopeless. I gave birth to the perfectly imperfect version of myself. Today, I look as unusual as I did when I was younger, but I embrace my awkwardness for what it is. Today, I ask God what new lesson he will allow me to gain insight from. Today, I look into that same mirror and instead of feeling the imminent pit of despair I had often felt, I am cradled in the light, welcoming arms of my own acceptance.
Did I do good?