I’ve always been drawn to beautiful things: art, design, poetry. I often look at people’s work and wonder what spoke to them? What inspired every stroke of ink or every smite of pen?
I scroll through Pinterest sometimes, looking at all these hand-drawn pieces of art. Some of them have uneven lines, maybe even look a little clumsy here and there. But they still feel complete. They’re beautiful, not because they’re perfect, but because they’re real. They feel alive and full of character.
The weird thing is, I struggle to look at my own work that way. I’m actually my worst critic, quickly finding fault with every little thing: with my poetry or with graphic design (I take personal courses in graphic design by the way). I feel like what I do is never good enough. I would write a piece, and then compare it to what I see on social media. I would look at these complex, layered poems and think, “Why can’t I write like that?” And then I would break and tell myself my work is too simple, too plain, not good enough.
Perfectionism is tricky like that. Some tell me it’s a strength. They say, “Oh, you’re able to see what needs fixing. You push yourself to make things better.” But there is the other side of it. The part where you don’t start because you’re afraid it won’t be good enough. The part where you finish something and then pick it apart because it doesn’t look like what someone else did.
The part where you hate yourself because you don’t measure up to some impossible standard you’ve set for yourself, because an old classmate of yours posted photos of her life now. The toxic cycle of comparison.
We look around and see people who seem to have it all together: the ones with the perfect personalities, the perfect jobs, the perfect marriage, the well-behaved kids, the perfect lives we secretly wish we had. And then we look at ourselves and think, “Why can’t I be more like them? Why does everything I do feel so… messy?”
But here’s what I’m learning: not everything has to be perfect to be beautiful. Those hand-drawn pieces of art I love so much? They’re not perfect, but they still speak to me. The poems I read and admire? They’re beautiful because they’re honest, not because they’re flawless.
Maybe life is the same way. Maybe we don’t need perfect edges or a flawless track record to be whole. Maybe it’s the scars, the stumbles, and the messiness that make us who we are.
This year, I’m trying to let go of perfect. To stop measuring my work and myself against impossible standards. To appreciate what I’ve done, even if it’s not what I imagined it would be.
And if you’re anything like me, maybe this is your reminder too. You don’t have to have it all together. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough.
NB: Actually, I spent several days contemplating whether to share this. I wanted to write this excellent, probably poetic piece that would reflect my best writing. Perfectionism has had a grip on me all month. But maybe, this first issue of “Soft Words For Hard Days” should just be a raw, honest, unedited piece of the struggle with letting go of perfect. I hope these words are soft and comforting, and helped you know you aren’t weird for how you feel.
Affirmations:
- “It’s okay if I’m still figuring things out. Unfinished doesn’t mean unworthy.”
- “The goal isn’t perfection. It’s showing up for myself, every single day.”
- “I don’t have to match anyone’s pace or path; my journey is mine to own.”