Recently I’ve been listening to Keith Urban’s “Shame” over and over … not because it’s a genius song, mind you. It’s actually pretty simplistic. But it’s lovely nonetheless because it fits where I am right now.
The past 23 years have been on an ongoing battle to be perfect. I’ve been making lists since I knew how to write – lists of what I need to do to be better (I.e. Talk less, grow my hair out, be more patient, remember birthdays, mail out those gosh-forsaken thank you cards).
Here I am in my 24th year and I’m exhausted. Imperfections be damned. I will never be perfect. And perfection isn’t a synonym for happiness.
So now I suppose the next step is accepting my loved ones for their imperfections as well.
My girlfriend, who’s a few years into her marriage, gave me an important piece of relationship advice: “Every relationship will have it’s battle – money, drinking, career, lack of time, loosing a child, ect. You just need to figure out if that battle is doable for you, and if your partner is one you can battle with.”
This is it. This is the statement I’ve been searching for. I will never find a perfect human or a perfect relationship – not with friends or lovers or family or myself. The end. Life is perfectly imperfect and now I just need to sit back and enjoy all the lovely imperfect people I’ve been blessed with.