By: Kiersten Lupinek

‘Strive for your greatest,’ they tell me.

‘Be the best you that you can.’

They say these things, but they don’t mean them. What they mean to say is be perfect. Be flawless. Have no faults, no secrets, no problems, no cares, no worry, no anxiety, no depression. Nothing.

Then, what does that make perfection?

Is perfection, in turn nothing?

Because who am I without my heartache, without my trials and dilemmas. Every hero has too many to count. Achilles is famous for he weakness. Nobody remembers Goliath as the hero.

So why am I not allowed to have any weaknesses at all to be perfect? Why can’t I be fatally flawed? What if I want to be fatally flawed?

What if I’m tired of perfect? Of the standards of that nothingness that induce faults, secrets, problems, cares, worry, anxiety, and depression. They say be perfect, but perfection itself creates that tarnished hero we all see.

I want to be that tarnished hero. I want to strive to be flawed. I want to embrace who I am and what’s happened to me. I know I’m flawed. I know I’m tainted.

But that’s just it.

I want to be.

Perfection leaves tears and sorrow.

Knowing I’m imperfect leaves me confident and proud of who I am.



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