I had mentioned previously that my best friend of 27 years has a tattoo that I admire so greatly. In fact, it in itself has shifted a large part of my mindset. Her tattoo is on her upper arm just below her shoulder. She is Irish, yes, a true Irish beauty. The tattoo is colorful, a fairly decent size, and the words are in Celtic. It says, ‘Perfectly Flawed’ and I friggin’ love it and I friggin’ love her.
Life has this way of running full circle. When she first got the tattoo, I thought it was great, but the meaning didn’t really hit home for me until I got quite a bit older. Until I understood just how life is and how hard it can be.
There are so many times I can think back to where perfection was the goal. Where I measured myself up to what I thought was perfection, what society deemed as perfection, and what others presented as perfection. What a shame. And in fact, I am ashamed that I spent far too much time measuring myself up to everyone else’s expectations and perceptions rather than my own. I spent far too much time working to please everyone else and trying to ensure that they liked me or thought I was special rather than realizing that “I am special’. Just like everyone else. We are all special just in our own ways.
I can dance, I can sing, I can write (a little bit ), I can make friends easily and ease the tension in a stuffy room, I can be all business and make the sale, I can lead with a customer centric focus, I can think outside the box and be very creative, I have great perception and can read a room pretty damn good, and I can love hard, mom hard, and go hard. I wear my heart on my sleeve and rarely cower away from sharing my opinion. I am also, in my head far too often, over think things, love so hard that when it is not reciprocated, I get crushed far too easily, I still measure myself up to ridiculous standards and far too often forget to laugh at myself and life around me. I have a big ass, thick thighs and itty-bitty titties but I am curvy as hell and my hubby still digs it and my kids can’t resist a cuddle.
I have goals that will persist probably until the day I make my way to heaven, and I am forever on the pursuit to be a better person one day to the next. After all, I am a huge believer in “Constant and Never-Ending Improvement” and that is okay. But it doesn’t mean that I am on the pursuit for perfection. Because I don’t think there is such a thing. The only perfection there is, is the flawed kind.
Flaws make us human. Flaws makes us relatable, real, and help to define our own special, our uniqueness. And trust, I would far rather be unique and special than a robot housewife lined up like dominos just ready to be pushed over.
My dear friend knew this many, many years ago. She always has been wise in a way I never was. She always knew who she was and had a chill factor far before I ever did. And she knew me and all my perfect flaws all that time ago and still decided to stick around. For that I am forever grateful for her loving me, quite honestly teaching me and in a lot of ways paving the path a head of time for me.
We are all flawed in different ways and we are all perfect in different ways. The goal is to embrace your flaws enough to maybe still work to improve them but more importantly not take them too seriously and just let it be. To allow us to laugh a bit more and worry a bit less. For far too often it is those moments that are so incredibly flawed that give us the greatest pleasure and that gritty belly laugh that reaches your bones. The laugh that I think helps extend your life just a bit every time you have one.
I’ll work to continue to embrace my perfect and my flaws and remind myself that life really isn’t that serious. That just maybe if I love hard and mom hard, that maybe I should take that same perfect and turn it inward and learn to love myself hard too, all my perfects and all my flaws in between.
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