re. Diogenesisterâs postâŠ
Ugh, jeezus⊠âperfectionââŠ
âŠperfection was my carrot.
As a kid, I always felt super-embarrassed whenever I got something wrong or made a mistake (especially if it resulted in mocking or scorn), and the JW grownups in my life would always say âwe all make mistakes, weâre imperfectâ (emphasis mine), so I naturally grew up thinking that âperfectionâ (i.e. the opposite of imperfection, obv) meant never getting anything wrong or making mistakes, and therefore never having to feel embarrassed againâŠ
âŠor, really, never having anyone be able to mock or criticize me and make me feel bad anymore (and also, be smart and really good-looking, because I thought those things would keep me from feeling bad, too).
This, plus a handful of other reasons, basically (mis)led me to grow up thinking that I was somehow more âimperfectâ than the majority of other people (seriously), which in turn made me quietly desperate to be âperfectâ some dayâŠ
âŠi.e. my carrot.
This idea lasted well into my 20s, until three things happenedâŠ
âŠfirst, the shocking realization that in the adult world (the one that actually counts), the vast majority on people are not the sociopathic assholes Iâd had to go to school with for the previous decade-or-so, and therefore, not looking for every available opportunity to pounce on my âflawsâ, broadcast them to the world, and make me feel like hammered shit over and over againâŠ
âŠsecond, my father explaining to me that the âperfectionâ promised in the New System was actually âspiritualâ perfection (whatever that meant), as opposed to being, for all intents and purposes, Superman (this was a very dismaying moment at the time, needless to say, because how the fuck was that supposed to help me not feel bad?)âŠ
âŠand third, a semi-related conversation with a fellow Iâd known a while, wherein he happened to mention how he happened to view âperfectionâ (hint: not like me)âŠ
âŠall of which, together, led me to the gobsmacking conclusion that âperfectionâ (whatever it was) was so subjective that, for all intents and purposesâŠ
âŠthere was no such thing.
Once I got over that shock, I (surprisingly, at the time) actually felt better⊠or at least, relieved, because I no longer felt burdened with hoping and wishing for something that simply didnât exist.
(Note: there were other things that helped, too, but thatâs another story.)