Wednesday, March 9, 2016

A Struggle With Perfection

“Perfect: a seven letter word that shouldn’t exist, because it’s not real.”

The idea of being perfect is something I grew up with. Covering up imperfections was taught to me at a young age and has become the norm. I talked about that here in regards to covering up my imperfect, stretch marked covered calves.

But with age comes comfort and acceptance. As I’m comfortable with the skin I am in –at least I try to be– this ever present battle with acne reminds me that I am not perfect. But if I’m okay with that, why do these pimples still bother me? Why was I offended and brought to tears when the male cashier at the place where I get my eyebrows done suggested I come back for an acne facial. He claimed it would be “beneficial.”

In the last year or so I’ve realized acne is an issue because I make it one. Yes, people see it on my face and make their judgments, but the acne doesn’t make or break me. It has no bearing on who I am as a person.

When I look in the mirror, I try to look past it, continually telling myself, “It could be worst.” But that internal desire for perfection causes me to continue to spend money on quick solutions. Instead of going through the proper process (a cleanse), I’m always looking for quick results. All in the name of looking perfect immediately.

But on some occasions, the acne is whatever. It’s there, on my face. And there is no way I can hide it. They are a constant reminder that something in my body is not functioning right or that my body isn’t responding well to something I’m constantly putting in it. Until I am able to figure it out, I just have to keep in mind that my flaws do in fact make me perfect; they add character.