I’ve had to deal with perfectionism a good deal of my life. I felt like if I wasn’t perfect, then I wasn’t whole, and I had to fix myself in some way. As long as I thought I had to be fixed, I send myself the message that I was actually broken.
If only I could’ve been just a little bit more of this, and a lot less of that, then I would probably be fixed and perfect. I think I was addicted to trying to fix myself. Maybe that’s why I read all those books about personal development, or why I tried all those weird diets – vegetarian, vegan, raw vegan – trying to heal my body from all the discomforts the feelings of being broken gave me.
I believed that if I could heal and fix myself, I would be perfect and complete. I was missing the truth that I am good enough, as I am, right now. A hard revelation. Acceptance is one of the hardest things to do for me. Not only do I have to accept, but I have to accept that I am enough, that there’s no need to be perfect, simply because perfection doesn’t exist.
Letting go of the idea that I must fix myself in some way to meet some standards made up by our society and my imagination is liberating. I can understand myself when I accept everything about me. I can get curious about the reasons behind my actions, and I can change for the right reasons, not to be some ideal of what I think people want me to be.
I am not broken. I am enough. I am whole.
You are not broken. You are enough. You are whole.