Why Life Is A Lot More Fun When We Stop Trying to Be Perfect

“Oh, my lord,” he said, “I forgot to shave my left leg!”

That may not sound like a particularly remarkable announcement, but Jenny and I were sitting in a rented bus that took our high-class class to the beach on "Senior Cut Day" a few weeks before graduation, and her discovery shocked me.

The uncut leg, it seemed to me at the time, was extremely embarrassing.

If I had forgotten to shave, I would have kept my sweat all day rather than showing my shameful imperfections.

Jenny, on the other hand, not only shared a pas pas with me but also announced it aloud throughout the bus. He laughed at it, and invited everyone to laugh, too!

I was shocked.

I was also impressed. The fact that someone might deliberately admire his own imperfections, making fun of him, would be offensive, yes, but also amazing.

It was hot in the sea that day. My well-shaven legs were bare, but I had forgotten to pack a T-shirt, and since I knew my stomach wasn't as flat as a pancake, I kept my sweatshirt on my bike.

The sweat of my brow made my heart swell, but heaven forbade me to show my imperfections!

Jenny, on the other hand, spent the whole day laughing, playing volleyball, hitting the waves, not caring at all with her furry left leg.

Can you guess who had the best time?

You may think that this experience could have taught me something, but in reality, before I finally began to break free from my imperfections, I spent decades bragging about my imperfections.

Somehow I believed that I would not be loved if I was imperfect, so I was caught in a vicious cycle: aiming for perfection, failing, and then beating myself up for failure and moving on to perfection again. Lather, clean, repeat.

Throughout my twenty-two years, in pursuit of the perfect body, I was troubled by eating disorders, and I was kept very careful not to expose my flaws to the world.

In college, nothing less than A is acceptable. The pure joy of reading has taken the back seat in striving for the right amount of grade points.

Meanwhile, in a relationship I hid myself behind a mask, fearing that no one would love me if they saw the real, flawless one.

Surprisingly, I found the man I was going to be with, but when we decided to get married, I was a brilliant "Bridezilla", completely focused on planning the perfect wedding.

My pursuit of perfection helped me to remain in denial by the fact that, although we were in love, relationships were built on an unshakable foundation.

During my marriage I found love for the arts, but the joy I felt when I built them quickly passed away with sadness, because nothing I did was ever fun enough. In the end it seemed easy not to build at all. I became disabled because of my desire to be perfect.

I would say that it was the social “failure” of my divorce that began in the process of my acceptance. Or that it was the college stages in the women’s mind, which helped me overcome my eating disorder and start embracing my body the way it was.

In fact, I see myself embracing it as a long and winding journey, made up of thousands of small, small steps, throughout life.

Children's actions such as revelation - thanks to Jenny on that high school bus ride - that you might laugh at yourself, and even draw attention to your mistakes, and that this could be an easier way to deal with them than to try to hide them all the time.

The children’s actions such as the gradual arrival that instead of beating myself up, I was able to forgive myself for my mistakes and negative steps, and that responding with empathy was a very pleasant lifestyle.

Children's epiphany-like steps that make a mess at my art table are more fun and satisfying than doing nothing (and that often what I see as "bad" at first, comes a little later!)

Gradually, I was able to break free from the false notion that if I was perfect, I would be worthy of love and happiness.

Quitting perfection has taken a long time. At first it sounded like a disrespectful dedication, like giving up and "letting go." But when I thought about the people I loved the most in my life, I realized that none of them were perfect.

I realized that the people I liked the closest to were the ones who accepted me as they were, comfortable with their skin. Why should I expect the opposite?

Gradually, I began to lose weight. In fact, I deliberately accepted my imperfections, and to my great surprise, the more I allowed myself to become, the happier I became, and the more content I had. And some people were even more attracted to me, too!

There is nothing wrong with self-improvement, but the truth is, neither of us can be perfect. We can pursue art, beauty, advancement, and being challenged by what we do, but emphasizing perfection can lead to self-loathing and unhappiness.

The only thing we can hope to end up with is that we are flawed and amazing.

If you are trapped in a cycle of perfectionism, what else can you do to press the pause button?

Giving to perfection is hard. The task of being yourself is difficult. However, the benefits are truly amazing, and you will continue to reap benefits for the rest of your life