Ed Sheeran sings “Life is more than fittin’ in your jeans. It’s love and understanding, positivity.” Perfection, physical or otherwise, is an unrealistic, unobtainable goal. It’s an endless mirage that doesn’t exist.
It’s taken me decades to let go of perfectionism. That includes vanity, I hate to admit. My husband says that if anyone looked in a mirror as long as I did that they’d eventually find something wrong. Now that I’m older and wiser, I realize it’s the caring, warm and funny people I’m drawn to, not the most attractive anyway. I can remember being a one-time perfectionist about my home, exercise and initially, parenting. God put my misplaced priorities in the blender and hit HIGH. Having four children in under two years will make the most staunch perfectionist fold.
I don’t know if it’s learned or innate but some people demand excellence in everything and others could care less. For example, one son years back was doing homework and repeatedly wrote an ‘S’ for the number ‘5.’ When I corrected him he remarked, “But isn’t it a pretty S?” Another son, in elementary school made an ‘F’ on an assignment. I admonished him about it and he said, “Mom, EVERYONE has to make one eventually!” They just weren’t that bothered by imperfection. Others in our household put so much pressure on themselves I have to remind them to be nice to even themselves.
The perfect family, house, body, or face won’t grant love or security. It’s all just packaging for true riches: love, understanding, positivity. The original queen of exercise, Jane Fonda, was recently quoted as saying it took her until age 60 to become the woman she was supposed to be. I hope to do it a decade sooner.