In its characteristic hushed, low voice it whispers. 

You keep losing.

Everyone else is doing better.

You are not good enough.

Hi perfectionism, funny seeing you here again.

• •• •

I used to get trapped in the enticement of perfectionism, believing its lies. I would listen to the whispers and keep pushing and trying and going, but the voice would get louder and scarier and more constricting. The finish line of the rat race kept moving further back, but in disillusionment, I kept running. Just one more step. Then, I’ll be happy. But I was always one step behind: one percent, one place, one goal. Never enough.

Perfectionism is rooted in comparison. There is always someone better, some new pinnacle to ascend. Perfectionism is overextending myself, striving to make myself be the best at everything even when I can’t be. But the truth is that even if someone does reach a semblance of perfection in a particular area, there are often sacrifices in others. There is always someone better at something. But even they are not fully perfect. Perfectionism is striving to reach an intangible, stretching out to a green light reminiscent, nebulous, thought that is a figment of our imaginations. 

• •• •

You are not allowed to make mistakes.

I didn’t raise my hand.

You are flawed.

I hid my imperfections.

Hi perfectionism, this time I’m breaking up with you. 

• •• •

This is for every time I beat myself up for the tests I told myself I “failed” or spent time with my friends instead of burying myself in hyper-productivity. You told me that I was not perfect and that was not okay. You told me I was never good enough even when I was trying as hard as I could and that should have been enough.

So sure, I may not have perfect grades, or be a perfect friend or writer or leader or changemaker or all around person, but I am enough. 

If I never lost, I never would have learned. If I never screwed up, I never would have grown. If perfection is a straight linear path, then I choose, wholeheartedly, with open arms, the waves and imperfections.

Perfection lacks the serendipity and curveballs that make life- life. I want to follow self-improvement, but in self-acceptance, I also deem myself enough right now. I can be losing and failing, but also learning and growing. 

• •• •

So, shhhh, quiet down. 

Hi perfectionism, let me whisper a secret to you. I am proud of myself for trying, I am worthy, making mistakes is human, and I choose progress over perfection.

Now, in reclamation, in my powerful, loud voice I scream.

I will keep learning.

Everyone is on their own journey.

I am enough.

No actually, I am… more than enough.