The Freedom of Imperfection

Truth is, I don’t need fixing. That doesn’t mean I do everything well and I never make mistakes. It’s just that I now get that making mistakes doesn’t mean I’m tragically broken.

For so long (especially after Stu died, when it felt like I couldn’t do anything other than make mistakes), I thought I was defective and I had to fix (or hide) my embarrassing weaknesses. And of course it follows that mistakes are annoying for other people, so they would only ever really like me when I did well.

I can hear what you’re thinking - yes, it is a completely unreasonable way to treat a human being and yes, it does set you up for hardly ever liking yourself.

No more . I was working so hard to get rid of my mistakes and weaknesses (and ironically, failing at it) that I was constantly overwhelmed and angry. Then I gradually realised that I actually needed them. They were my guides for working out how to try again. I also realised that my weaknesses weren’t what pushed people away - it was my grumpiness from the constant pressure of trying so hard to ‘fix’ them. My mistakes were what actually helped me connect with others - turns out we have a shared secret - we’ve all got embarrassing flaws

That gave me the freedom of not having to be perfect. If I’m naturally flawed (and I definitely am) then we are all expected to stuff up, regularly and sometimes spectacularly. As a naturally mistake-ridden human being, I take my responsibility very seriously to live up to this expectation