The Illusion of Perfection

Several weeks ago, months perhaps, I met with a young woman whom I mentor.  It was a beautiful day.  The sun was bright in a sky of cobalt blue, and the air was cool.  We found a table outside and chatted over coffee.  I was glad to see her, as it had been awhile since we had met face to face.  She looked beautiful, yet there was sadness in her eyes.

I asked her what had been going on in her life.  She began rumination of my question, started to speak but soon stopped. With apparent trepidation she expressed she had difficultly discussing herself, her problems and her life because she held me in high esteem.  She imagined I was perfect.  She said that she wasn't sure I would understand her and she had been struggling with speaking to me honestly about it. I was given pause. Me...perfect?  I almost laughed at how ridiculous that idea was, until I saw she was dead serious.

How could I help this girl if she had no idea of who I really am?

So I opened up to her.  Showed her my true colors by touching on some of my own struggles.  As it dawned on her that I was certainly not "perfect", she relaxed, smiled and laughed.  It brought us profoundly closer. It turned out to be the most insightful meeting I've ever had.

It filled me with hope, as if tattooed on my wrist. Which, as you may be aware, is. Hope eternal.

Perfection.  The elusive status that we all seem to desire, even when we know it is impossible to attain.  We are human after all,  which means we are perfectly imperfect. However...that doesn't stop us from pretending. Myself included. It seemed I was getting rather good at acting.

During my later review of our conversation, it dawned on me I am guilty of keeping my skeletons, my flaws, my weaknesses, etc. closely guarded.  My logic (loosely termed) could be; if I keep everything outwardly pretty then no one will know my secret demons.  But they exist.  No one, especially me, is perfect.  I suddenly realized I'm not doing myself or others any good by not being true to myself.  In fact, I am creating my own turmoil. That is not the way I want to live my life.

To thine own self be true.

The mentor became the student. And isn't that the way it should be? Learn from each other. Something clicked that day.  A new journey had begun.

I am not perfect, but I have learned to embrace that and am falling in love....with me.

Peace, xoxo