Reflection on perfection
For years I tried to be perfect. Because that’s the purpose of life, right? To perfect oneself, in order to earn a place in the Kingdom of God. I was told by so many that I had to work towards perfection, and to be perfect I must be this, and be that, and not any of these other things. I had to do this, but never, ever that. In fact, it is sinful to even think about all of these things. And angels are listening in to your thoughts to keep track of your sins. And if you don’t achieve perfection, you’ll be alienated from your family FOREVER.
But I am flawed and broken, because that is how I was made. Perhaps it is the purpose of life to strive for perfection, but some versions of perfection are not possible, or even desirable, for me. But I tried. I pretended to be perfect. I pretended to be nice and sweet and mild. I pretended to be straight and I pretended to be dull and also shiny. I pretended to want perfection.
Inside, I killed myself. I stabbed my ambition through the heart, because it was unsightly. I murdered my dreams and strangled my soul.
I hated myself, and I blamed myself. What’s wrong with me that I can’t be happy this way?
I couldn’t breath.
I had to choose – my life or my soul. I chose air. Life.