The “Perfect” Syndrome

Is it my impression or we are living in a world full of the “Perfect” syndrome?

Do you ever feel like you need to be perfect, both inside and out?

You need to be beautiful, having a great body – exercise and diet to get it, you need to be smart, successful, knowing how to cook, knowing how to present yourself, keeping up with fashion trends (including make-up ones and everything about making your lashes look longer), striking super sexy photo poses, and somewhere in between keeping up with world news…. and being a great Human Being… uff… I’m tired already…

We live by the high standards of beauty and fitness magazines… they teach you how to be beautiful and healthy… Do they teach you how to feel at peace with yourself?

Do they teach you how to accept yourself, despite your imperfections?

Do they teach you how to stay true to yourself, in the kingdom of ruling external patterns?

The pressure of having a beautiful body, toned arms, abs and booty, amazing hair (cover those gray hairs that decided to make their sudden appearance!), perfect white and aligned teeth, perfect nails… and then you need to complement it all with great styling skills, branded bags, looking comfortable in heels, and I don’t know what else.

It tires me just by thinking of it all… I actually tried it for some time… but you know what?

I don’t have a perfect body. I don’t have perfect teeth. I don’t feel comfortable in heels and I don’t want to spend my money in branded bags. Oh, and I also can’t strike a proper pose… I just look silly while trying to do it. The clumsy me insists in not collaborating!! Should I be judged over it?

Should I ambition for all of that just because half of the female population craves for it?

I mean, I’m also not going to lie… Like any woman, I do appreciate a nice bag, and I’d absolutely love having sexy pose pictures, don’t get me wrong! But is it a driving factor in my life? No. And as much as I respect people who are driven by it, I like being respected for not being driven by it.

I learned to accept that about myself.

I learned how to accept my imperfect body.

I learned that I don’t want to sacrifice my love for chocolate to get a perfect body. My imperfect body has carried me through my life. And has not let me down so far.

I’m aware people judge you for your image, for how you dress, for how you speak, for how you show yourself. Is that healthy? Is it healthy that you live to impress others?

Is it healthy thinking your Prince Charming will fall in love with you by the way you look?

Well I decided it wasn’t healthy for me. And I’m much happier ever since. (I’m aware of my surrounding society though… I still live in one. It’s not as if I’m living in hermitage!)

But are we nice people because we look like nice people? Because we look perfect (or try)?

Some of us do our best to actually BE good people and even so, no one is perfect!

We’re all incredible generous but also incredible selfish under the right circumstances. Life isn’t a perfectly flat ocean. We shelter as much Good within as much Bad. We’re a pallet of different colors. Life isn’t in black&white shades only. Although sometimes it feels like it. But it’s not that simple.

So, what exactly is Perfect?

Why do we keep looking for it?

Why do we keep pretending to be someone other than ourselves? Why do we keep comparing ourselves? I do believe in striving and fighting to be better, to grow yourself but I also know I will never be perfect… not in my eyes, not in anyone else’s eyes.

And I gave up on it. And I’m comfortable with it. At least for now. Can’t tell for tomorrow.

This blog has in a way ‘set me free’. I’m going to take a risk here of being misunderstood and coming across as arrogant and selfish… but I don’t care much of what people will think if they read this. I value people’s opinion, yes. I value people’s feedback on my writing. I obviously like feeling that I’m not an alien and other people eventually resonate with some of this. But in the end… who am I writing for? For you or for me? And to be utterly honest… I’m doing it for me. But I still hope you like it.