Shedding perfection feels like shedding my skin. But not “shedding”, pulling and pressing and tearing and ripping with precision and imprecision. Shedding perfection feels like losing myself, and fearing what I’ll find in return. Shedding, perfection means risking and getting messy and being wrong and having to own that and live with it.
Shedding perfection also means freedom. Freedom from internally agonizing over every step, I take, word I make, thought that breaks-shedding perfection means true richness, true trust, true investment in repairing and maintaining relationships with others and myself.
Shedding, perfection, hurts and shedding. Perfection without spiraling into shame is touchy and tricky and is possible, but, goddamn, it is hard to find the balance.
Shedding perfection is actually living; actually living, actually expressing, actually being there instead of being in my brain the whole time.
Shedding, perfection means…
Unclenching my jaw
Letting go
Accepting things I once thought were unacceptable, and still honestly feel are often unacceptable because of self imposed and imposed expectations and standards that were unrealistic and also don’t exist in my environment anymore.
5 April 2023
Leah.like.Leia 