The lesson I learned…
Be perfect. If you fail and there are signs of imperfection, hide them.
Never a kid that presented a beautiful mess
of an art project.
Everything I did looked just like the example
because it needed to.
It had to be "perfect."
Remarkable representations
done by classmates.
Why can’t I create something that beautiful?
The requirement of perfection.
A devastating loss of creativity
and with it, freedom
to be a beautiful mess.
Fast forward to adulthood.
If I make a mistake...
reverse it,
explain it away,
hide it,
lie about it.
Don’t show imperfections.
What imperfections?
Oh, that, it wasn’t my fault.
I’m perfect.
Perfection is exhausting
because it's unattainable.
We, humans, make mistakes.
It’s unavoidable.
Overcoming the lesson…
A mistake at work.
I couldn’t fix it,
as hard as I tried.
No choice but to admit it,
but man, I didn't want to.
I lost it,
a total breakdown
facing my boss,
a fellow perfectionist.
Why are you trembling and crying?
I messed up big (not that big) with a difficult client.
I awaited the wrath
I had already unleashed
on myself
for making a mistake.
It’s a mistake.
We all make them.
We'll deal with it.
It will be ok.
Not a natural response, I know, for a fellow perfectionist.
I was given a gift.
She allowed me to be human,
to escape my humanness,
unscathed.
It’s been a process,
easing up on myself.
I’ve come a long way.
Now,
I’d rather make 1,000,000 mistakes
and own up to every one
than deny just one
ever again.
Now,
I want to create beautiful messes.
I want to be a beautiful mess.
Unapologetically.