I told myself I’d write something here every day for a week but I forgot to write yesterday, so I guess I’m a failure and I’ll just throw this whole blogging thing out. Or maybe I’ll just write twice today to make up for missing yesterday. Perfection, perfection, perfection: nothing but 100% perfect is OK.
Sounds crazy, right? But that’s precisely what I’ve been thinking since I remembered that I hadn’t blogged last night before bed. It’s such an ingrained part of me, the need to be perfect at all times, that the insanity of it all takes a while to filter through all of the dysfunctional parts of my brain. After a tea latte this morning and some time spent wandering aimlessly around FitBloggin – surrounded by excited, happy people jumping around and shrieking with joy while Zumba-ing, mind you! – I finally remembered how unhappy I become when I shoot for 100% perfection. I mean, really and truly, the chances of being 100% perfect for the rest of my life are slim and none so why do I do this to myself?
I think it might be part of a bigger craziness whereby I think that if I can make myself perfect in every way except this poor, abused body I wander around with, then I’ll be acceptable. I can’t even remember when it started, the desire to be perfect, to never do anything bad or wrong, but it’s so much a part of me now that I don’t even think about it anymore. It’s why I spend a fortune on my hair and clothes and shoes and purses and jewelry and everything else that I can make perfect: I can buy perfection for material things but my perfect body can’t be bought, it has to be earned.
I don’t have the perfect plan for how to get from here to healthy but at least I know how I won’t make it happen. No more quest for diet and exercise perfection for this girl – this isn’t a race and there are no medals for finishing quickly but the rewards for treating my body with love and kindness again will be tremendous.