I've always been the good one. the one who always did what she was told.
the one who always followed the rules, got straight A's and was home by curfew.
the one who always lived up to expectation.
the one who always impressed, pleased and perfected.
but I've recently come to learn, with the help of my therapist and Brene Brown, that perfection is a twenty-ton shield we carry around - that I carry around - hoping it will protect us, when in actuality, it's the very thing that keeps our feet from ever leaving the ground and taking flight.
striving for "good" and "perfect" is all I've ever known. it's how I've defined myself for too long. always trying to disown the difficult and brush off the falls, as if it made me more worthy. as if the success of my person somehow rested in the weighted hands of my onlookers.
but as I grow, dragging my broken body; bloody and bruised, from a fall I'll never quite recover from, I'm realising this: the people in the stands - watching your and my life as if it's some Hunger Game - they don't mean shit. those people don't determine my worthiness. they never did. and I'm done hustling for something I deserved all along.
I am enough.
yes, I am imperfect and vulnerable. and sometimes, I might even get scared and break a little. but I am also, and equally, brave and worthy of love and belongingness. this process, of learning how to let go of who I think I'm supposed to be and embracing who I am through the uncomfortable vulnerability - it sucks, it's scary and sometimes it even hurts.
but I'm doing it. I'm choosing to surround myself with people who are able to bend with me, accepting my struggles and my strengths. I'm closing the door on the critics. I'm done wasting my time on winning over your worthiness - as if I ever could. I am willing to risk disappointing you, falling short and exposing myself emotionally.
because I'm committed to owning my story and learning to love myself in the process.
I'm showing up.
I'm being seen.
I'm sharing my feelings. even the not-so-pretty ones.
I'm having the hard conversations.
because the pursuit of perfection has only effed me up this far, and because, I. AM. WORTHY.