“I just want to tell the anorexic girl that you are beautiful because you’re a little bit ugly. You don’t have to try to be perfect…” –someone I really look up to
I turned bright red when they said that I’m pretty sure. They do not know that I am anorexic (anoretic, really) but as everyone else left they kept talking to me saying that some day I will find someone who will love me for everything, even the imperfections; all the little flaws. It is the ugly flaws that make me beautiful. It evolved into something about finding real love and how it bothers them when people say Romeo and Juliet is a great love story because they weren’t in love; how it’s a great infatuation story. Real love comes later when years have passed and you love and accept everything about that other person. Anyway, I started thinking, am I doing this for perfection? When I set my goal weights and look in the mirror am I thinking I need to lose weight to become perfect?
There is the saying, “I will achieve perfection,” that is all over thinspiration pictures and videos (see this post) that probably just answered my question. Yes, I am doing it all because I want to be perfect. I am doing it because I am flawed and I think that somehow losing weight so I am just skin and pure bone will make up for my imperfections: my insecurities and my poor math skills and my lack of drive for a real job and my lack of patience and tolerance and the way I snap when things go even the slightest bit wrong. Somehow being so tiny that I can fit into any space will make up for all of that and more. Somehow being so fragile will make people look past everything that is wrong with me and see only the perfect parts. They will see me as the tiny, fragile, perfect girl that I want so much to be and ignore all the bad parts.
So it is for perfection. But who decides what perfection is? Everyone has their own idea of perfection and I guess I know what mine is.
I’m not doing it entirely for perfection. It’s a mental disorder, I cannot stress that enough, so I was born thinking this way. I have not had the best childhood. I’ve been called worthless in so many different ways I don’t think there are any left. I am doing it so I don’t get abandoned the way my mom did.
So in recovery, one of the hard parts is rewiring your brain to perceive “perfection” as something with maybe a little more fat on the bones than what we’re born thinking is perfect. I don’t think I ever can let it go. I know I’ll never be fully recovered, and this is probably a part that will never go away.
What are your thoughts on “perfection”?