Perfection

Perfection is as much about control as it is about the ability to lose control. - black swan

I didn't think I would like the movie.  But, I did.  This is probably one of the most powerful lines in the movie for me.  That and the end, which I will not share.  I thought about it for a long time, even after the credits rolled...in the car on the way home.  And even now hours later.

The White Swan vs The Black Swan--perfection/purity vs vulnerability/passion

How much of myself do I lose in my drive to be perfect.  I think of my friend--not fabulous because she isn't perfect.  I tell her this is BS, because it is.  Yet, I hold myself to a different standard.  When am I at my happiest?  Certainly not when I am trying to be perfect.  In fact, some of the best times in recent memory have been, when I open myself up and show those imperfections.  As scary and terrifying as it can be at times...that loss of control, if only for a moment is so freeing, so real.

Where did I get this need to be perfect?  It seems that it has been a part of me for as long as I can remember.  Even as a small child, I had to be the best.  I put on a good front that it was okay if I wasn't, but that's all it was--a front.

I think about being born with a disability.  From the moment I came into this world, I was imperfect.  Hell, I have the scars from birth to prove it!  How much of that plays a factor? I remember when I hit "normal ranges" --90 degree angles.  I needed to go for 100/110.  Yet now, I'd be lucky to hit 45.  I was also the first patient my PT had to ride a two-wheeled bike w/o training wheels.  I was the best.

In school there was the drive for the best grades--NHS, Editor-In-Chief of the school paper, president of this or that.  All covering for the scared little girl, with low self-esteem, and a dark secret--she hated herself, and her life.  But damn did it look good.

College was much of the same, minus the self-loathing.  But still needing to be the best...RA as a sophomore, Honors Club President, ARD by 2nd semester Junior year.  It goes on.  I was happier though, there was more balance.  Pressure sure, and I nearly cracked under it a few times.  Nearly transferred, changed majors more than once, then there was Sr year when I almost quit every extracurricular.  But didn't, because how would that have looked?

I am older now.  But still I battle this need for perfection.  At work, at home, but I am finding that the harder I try for it...the more tired and unhappy I become.  I talk with my clients about setting realistic expectations for themselves.  I think it's about time I set some for myself as well.

I was not put here to be perfect.  I was put here, by the grace of God to be me.  Just me.  Radical Acceptance--right?  I am not perfect.  Nor will I ever be.  I am clumsy, anxious, chubby, a little neurotic, gullible, trusting, and as much as sometimes I hate to admit it, I cannot do some things like the rest of my friends--because I am disabled.  God gave me that gift, as a constant reminder that I do not have to be perfect--because with my CP, I can never be.