Perfect imperfection

She felt broken inside. No one knew. How could they? She only ever showed her lovely, funny, happy, gorgeous face. Mask rather. No one knew that she was so very self-conscious, that she felt as if she wasn't measuring up to society's standards at all, not even to her own mask. It was not that the mask was completely fake, it was just that, well, the mask wasn't all she was. It was only the small part she felt safe sharing. Underneath, lurking in the shadows, was the anger, the sadness, the hurt, the self-harm, the desperation, the brokenness. Underneath was the whole person, gorgeous and ugly, strong and vulnerable, loving and hating, securely locked away so no one would know. No one was allowed to find out that she was not perfect.

This is my story. And this is the story of the people I meet in my counselling practice. The details change, the stories behind the story change and yet, everyone, including myself, wears a mask. The masks change as well. Of course. We are individuals, with our own flavours and colours. Some masks are bright and colourful so that everyone would like us. Some masks are exhaling danger so that everyone would stay far away from us. Some masks are misty-grey so that no one would really see us. Some masks are so fixed to our faces, we don't know how to take them off anymore. Others seem to change, our face is different all the time so that we look like a chameleon, always adapting to our surroundings. And yet, no matter what the mask might be, it only ever shows parts of ourselves. And it hides that we are not perfect.

Perfect: having all the required or desirable elements, qualities, or characteristics.
What a goal. What a trap. The aspiration to be the perfect mother-father-employee-friend-human destroys people time and time again. For a very long time, it destroyed me. It discouraged me from showing my true colours, my authentic self, my vulnerability. And yet, it is (like one of my very dear friends said the other day) essential to truly be myself if I want to truly connect with people. So, what's the alternative?

Perfect: as good as it is possible to be.
I will never be perfect-perfect. I will always be perfect-imperfect. I can strive to become as good as it is possible to be right now and that is all I can really do. That includes the mask I choose to display and it includes all those things that lurk in the shadows. Because this is who I am. At this point in time. I am as good as it is possible to be. A perfect imperfection.