It's been months since I've written on my blog and I feel like shit. I know I'm not alone when I say - there's so much I want to do, but also so little time. It's not that I technically don't have time to do the things I want to do, I just get overwhelmed. Where do I start? What if it's not good enough? What if people don't like it? What if people don't like me?
Then I stop and think. What really matters? That I live my purpose. That I put myself out there even though it's not perfect. In Brené Brown's perfect words, "I am imperfect, I am enough."
So I guess, here goes nothing? I am imperfect, and I am enough. For those of you who know me well, I'm a perfectionist. For those who don't, surprise! While I apply myself to everything I do with the utmost attention to detail and purpose, I often overwhelm myself with unnecessary tasks and burden because I have this desire to be better than best. Although I rationally understand I cannot be perfect, I still try. I try because being imperfect, and being myself is almost more terrifying than trying and failing to be perfect.
As most people do (although some don't acknowledge it) I have struggled with mental health issues in my youth. When people close to me and my family began to hear about some of these issues, they would say things like "how is that possible? Adi seems so put together, she has everything going for her, how could she be struggling with that?" Once someone even suggested that I was being dramatic and didn't need help, that I was simply being a teenager. This is to say that yes, I did well in school, I was a talented young musician, I played tennis, I was smart, hardworking, at times wise, but mostly just a smart-ass. I seemed like a typical teenager. Behind the mask I would put on most days, was someone struggling with anxiety, depression, and because of my perfectionism, anorexia.
The ironic part of all of this was that all I wanted to be was an imperfect person, but people around me saw me as this perfect example of a young millennial with potential. While this was flattering, it came with a lot of pressure.
Now that I have begun to let go of other people's perception of me, I have come to realize that the person who was really putting the most pressure on me to be better and to create this image of a perfect daughter, scholar, politician, academic, student, musician, and woman, was me. No one ever told me "you have to be perfect" I just always tried to be, and if I did anything less than that I was afraid people would notice. As I have become to realize more recently, this has also come with a fear of truly being myself and of vulnerability.
For those of you who know me well, I have often stated that I don't believe that I'm afraid of vulnerability. Well - next time you see me in a room with someone I'm intimated by or attracted to, remind me of my so called fearlessness with being vulnerable....
While I'm calling myself out for my fear of vulnerability I'm doing two things. I'm calling myself out for being imperfect. I'm making myself comfortable with imperfection. I'm attempting to be vulnerable, I'm sharing my fear of letting go of what I should be, and being exactly who I am. Really, all I'm doing is practicing.
I am imperfect, I am enough. Say it with me now.