Sack of Potatoes

I overstepped yesterday. Someone reminded me how my views on a certain subject are always negative. The disappointment in their voice scared me and for a second everything fell apart for me.

Don't get me wrong, I needed that. The reminder is like a cold slap to my arrogance. It forced me to reconsider and recalculate my views. It made me realize my view on that matter was heavily biased by my own trauma and grief, and I should do better.

What scared me was how much it hurts to not be 'perfect'. That every flaw I have, every wrong and every disagreement will be a valid point to leave me. If I am not good enough, I am in danger of being left behind. Again.

Which is a load of bullsh--. 

I am imperfect. I am flawed. As much as I want to think how amazing I am, I am not without fault. And that's ok. As long as I strive to do better, as long as I try to give the best for the world, it's ok. And even then, people will still have different opinions, different perspectives on things. And that's ok. 

I don't have to be perfect to be loved. Sometimes my imperfections drove people away, and that's ok. That's their prerogative. My job is not to fit in someone else's mold. My job is to be better in any way I can. For myself. For other humans. For the world.

This note is a reminder for myself. Yesterday I started the burlesque class thinking how I looked like a sack of potatoes; an hour later I still looked like a sack of potatoes but with a dangerously seductive smile. I love who I am. I am aware of my imperfections but I love who I am. 

This is the level of acceptance where I want to be with my personal awareness. To accept what can't be changed and to change what I can, and still love myself in between. I will get there.