I know, I know, you thought I was being salacious, didn’t you? Yes, you did. I saw your eyes widening.
What I was talking about was revealing my feet of clay.
When I was a child, I had to be perfect – or at least maintain the illusion of perfection. It was incredibly wearing.
For some reason, probably because it was a learned behavior that I’d learned very well, I carried the myth of perfection into my adulthood.
In fact, I remember the exact year when I dropped all pretense of being perfect. I was 41 years old.
Now, some people have epiphanies in their youth. I was a late bloomer. I can tell you, however, that I’ve had oodles of fun ever since.
Here’s why I like being imperfect:
- I can make mistakes and have no shame about admitting them.
- I can laugh at myself.
- I can tell really bad jokes.
- I can snort when I laugh.
- I can have my own beliefs and feel strongly about them, right or wrong.
How about you? Have you outgrown perfection? Were you ever pressured into being the perfect child? Isn’t it fun just being human?