perfection

I remember walking the streets of France feeling so curious and overwhelmed with all the options. France is one of those places that is so rich in culture and it’s so obvious to feel that when you’re there. You can walk by the Eiffel Tower at any time during the day and you will see groups of people with their blankets out, having picnics, and enjoying the company they are with. The streets are filled with cafes, people engaged in conversation, indulging in their food. In the evenings, people gather by the river and they dance in the middle of the week. You can just feel the richness of presence there. At least that’s what I felt.

It’s funny because I found myself more in my head about it. Wanting so badly what they had, wondering how I could just let go a little and allow myself to fully enjoy the moments I was in.

Visiting France in 2019 was the first time I had nothing to do in my life but enjoy and indulge but I still felt held back and even scared by it. I remember waking up each morning and it would take hours to find the perfect place to eat. Looking at dozens of different menus always in search of something better.

Honestly, it was so exhausting to always be searching for perfection. And if anyone ever asked me, hey what does the perfect restaurant look like to you? I wouldn’t even know how to answer it. This idea of perfection has become such a strong theme in my life. When I explore deeper into what perfection even means to me, I don’t even have a definition to give.

I find that so funny and I’m so curious for myself where it’s coming from. When did this idea of being perfect come into my awareness of something to strive for? It’s a question I still get curious about today and a concept I’m really trying to let go of.

Is this really a strength I have like I’ve put on so many job applications? Do I even want to be perfect? And the biggest question, does perfection even exist?

One day, after a long day of hiking outside of Marseille, this search of perfection really set in. I was on a mission to find the perfect restaurant. Searching the streets for something I literally couldn’t even define. Probably an hour later and after looking at 20 different menus, I’m looking over another and I hear a waiter say something to me in French. I don’t know any French so I kind of just ignore it but for some reason, this restaurant felt perfect. Yaaaay I found it. I’m sitting down at the table and put an order in for a bottle of wine, a salad and a pizza. I’m looking around me and everyone is engaged in conversation, making eye contact and from what it seemed, to be really enjoying themselves.

At this time in my life, I feel that it was obvious how anxious I was or it definitely was that day because when the waiter came back with the wine, he poured me a glass and looked me in the eye and said “just let go”. It felt like that waiter knew me better than I knew myself. He sensed this search of perfection that I was holding onto just by me looking at the menu. It was one of the moments that I’ll never forget because he acknowledged what I was already feeling but I didn’t really know where to even start or what it even meant to let go. That interaction really got me thinking and was the first moment where I feel like letting go became something I actually wanted to do.

That’s what the French taught me. To indulge life now. That it’s okay if I’m not doing anything because I’m also allowed to enjoy life and play like the French do. It’s a journey I’m constantly exploring deeper into but I’m so grateful for that moment of reflection and for that French waiter giving me that perspective to begin the process of letting go of this idea of perfection that I don’t even know how to define for myself.

This is a very surface level example of how perfectionism was showing up in my life. It became a larger thread that lead me deeper and deeper into myself the more I started to take the advice of letting go to heart. I stopped caring about finding the perfect restaurant and then life started to point out other ways in which perfectionism was showing up. Slowly, I began to literally unravel until I learned that the only cure for perfectionism is to truly develop a deep sense of love for who I am. To accept all the parts of myself that I think are yucky and unlovable. And to stand confidently in all of my imperfections and embody that love from within.

This was 5 years ago and I’m still a work in progress. There were so many layers of unraveling but I’m not searching anymore. I’ve made peace with who I was and I’ve forgiven those versions who didn’t know any better. In these moments, I’m still unraveling but now falling deeply in love with the process of loving myself.