My relative scrunched up his nose. “That’s not good enough.”
I turned away. My head dropped, and my shoulders sagged. His remarks reminded me of my abusive childhood.
My parents beat me regularly and said I deserved it because I was a bad person, an evil being, a rotten soul—and I believed it. I didn’t think I could do anything right so I struggled to achieve an elusive state of perfection that I never came close to reaching. My repeated failures added to my sense of defeat and sent me spiraling into a constant state of depression.
I believed I had to be perfect before I could experience anything positive in my life. Until I achieved perfection, I could never enjoy life or feel love. I didn’t believe a good life and my shortcomings could coexist.
This continued until one day I passed a rosebush and one of the thorns snagged my shirt. At first, I fumed with anger, but then I noticed a nearby rose. My fingers touched the velvety red petals dripping with morning dew. My nose smelled the heavenly fragrance. The beauty of the rose captivated me.
The rosebush has both beauty and imperfections-like me.
I wondered how a flower as flawless and gorgeous as a rose could grow on a bush with sharp, piercing thorns. Shouldn’t it grow on something perfect? Like a smooth stem? Then it hit me. The rosebush has both beauty and imperfections—like me.
If a rosebush can do it, why can’t I? I’m a human being. It’s unrealistic to expect perfection from an imperfect being. My very nature is to have faults and limitations. They reflect my humanity and oneness with others. Yes, I will always do my best, but I must stop punishing myself if the results fall short of my expectations. Being angry with myself for not being perfect only results in my own misery.
When I take down my rigid wall of perfection, I open myself up for growth. I learn to treat myself in a loving, forgiving way. I learn to be gentle with myself. I learn to give myself permission to make mistakes. Few errors are so severe they can’t be overlooked or mended. Most of them teach me to turn in a more positive direction.
When I focus on the thorns, I miss the beautiful rose in full bloom. When I focus on my imperfections, I miss the beauty within me. My bad behavior doesn’t prove I’m a failure, but concentrating on it keeps the good in me hidden from view. When I recognize my good qualities, I’m not being prideful or conceited, but I’m taking the first step in learning what is pleasant, loving and generous in me. Perfection may be a long way off, but improvement can happen every day.
I now accept myself as I am
My behavior doesn’t have to be perfect for me to be an acceptable, lovable person. I am what I make of myself and my life. By loving myself and allowing myself to make mistakes, I can build on my strengths and correct what is keeping me from growing into the person I want to be.
I can now accept myself as I am—thorns and all—and celebrate each one. Every day I blossom into a more beautiful human being and experience a richer and more fulfilling life than I ever thought possible.
Now when I find myself trying to get it just right, trying to make it perfect, I take a deep breath and remind myself that I am a human being. I’m not perfect, and I’m okay just the way I am—and so are you.
Are you a perfectionist? How do you deal with it?
3 responses to “Thorns of Imperfection”
I do a lot of self talk with phrases like “Progress is good,” and “Better is enough.” Perfectionism has a tendency to completely stall me out, so I have to remind myself that moving forward is important. I’ve become grateful for my imperfect self, because I know I need Jesus and He is enough.
What a beautiful description of how I too struggle with thinking I must “get it right” before I can even hope to be happy. You’ve opened my eyes to the possibilities.
Thank you, Pat, for your uplifting comments.
Sallie