The Truth of being Human

One of the most difficult thing about being alive, can be the acceptance of our humanness.Humanness, by it’s very nature, is imperfect.

We all have a dark side, a tricky bit, a part we don’t like people to see. The ugly parts, the grumpy moods, the judgemental, critical, shouty bit. The messy, the angry, the downright irritable. The bad choices, the pain inflicted on others knowingly or unknowingly. The humanness.

Perfectionism believes that if we are good enough, work hard enough, say all the right things, then perhaps we can bury the messy side. Perhaps if we are perfect, nobody will know the hidden parts, the human parts.

Perfectionism constantly moves the goalpost because we’re relentlessly fleeing a part of us that will always be a part of us.

That’s bloody exhausting (oh how I know). We see of other people what we want to see. See my face? You think you know what you think about me, about everyone else. You think you’re the only messy one. Oh friend. If only you knew how true it were that you are not alone (Part of the reason I’m so candid with the information I share is because I know the projections that happen within these small squares, and I want to inspire others to be open too. We’re all together in our messiness)

Maybe it’s time we learnt to accept the messy side as as much of us as the presentable bit. It’s a little more openness about the rougher edges that enables us to empathise, sympathise and meet with others on a deeper level. It’s the honesty and sharing of human experience that enriches relationship.

Acceptance is the ‘Really? Me too!’ I’m not saying we don’t need to challenge ourselves to grow and change (for that is always a good thing when done gently!), I’m challenging that we slowly need to learn to accept (and one day maybe even love) themessy, raw-edged part of us instead of stifling our humanness with perfectionism and shame.

So, you perfectionists out there (my hand is up), we’re all a mess. A messy mess. A mix of ugly, beautiful mess. For that, my fellow perfectionists, is being human xx