Does perfect exist? Or is it just so perfectly constructed in our minds that we can never actually fully reach it?
That, my friend, is the question. I’ve been a perfectionist my whole life. From choosing the right make-up brush to use as a microphone during my night-time Bonnie Tyler lip sync routine to spending half an hour wandering through supermarket isles to find the perfect meal, any time-consuming obsessive act you can think of- I’ve done it.
I need to buy the perfect notebook, a such strong need as if my life depends on it. Yet once I buy it, I can never find something “as perfect” to write in it. All this fuss about finding the perfect got me thinking: Does it actually exist? Because I’m pretty sure I would have reached the stage of perfect until know.
I asked some people on their opinions since, my perfectionist opinion would probably oddly stand out.
Just like beauty, perfection is relative, said Snowflake. The mainstream definition of “perfect” is not applicable to real life because it’s not physical, it’s a feeling. It’s more about being content with yourself rather than being “perfect” according to societal norms. Imagine being perfect in someone else’s eyes but being fatally flawed in yours, what good is that “perfection”? Perfection is about being at peace with yourself and thus reflecting that to your world. I’m not saying it can only come from inner peace, it can be tied to something material. You can work to achieve it.
I was like, hold on a second. If aiming for perfection in every aspect of my life is causing me discomfort and resulting in me feeling unhappy and “not enough”, why not aim for happiness?
I should aim for happiness, then I decided. Perfection is relative, and my perfection could be eternal happiness.
So today, we hijacked Cut and Grind, who were so kind to let us have a photoshoot and I wanted to project one thing, and one thing only: Imperfection.
So little make up, so much soul. Not claiming that make up is fake or anything, because it’s not, but just showing that being natural with your imperfections is normal and beautiful.
I know that I’m not perfect, and that’s totally okay.
If you ever questioned your beauty because of you imperfections, listen to me carefully: Imperfections are what make us human. Imperfections are beautiful.
I have never been the one to believe in the “aim for the moon/land among the stars” , yet so late did I realise that I simply don’t want to land among the stars, I want to be as happy as I would be if I ever reached the moon. I don’t aim for the moon, I aim for being over the moon.