A couple of years ago, I made drawings of my cat and my rabbit. Despite having some limiting believes about my drawing skills, I was pretty pleased with how it turned out. Not the work of a great artist, but I actually thought it looked good enough (maybe even to hang somewhere in my house). Pleased with my accomplishment I showed someone my drawings and this person responded with: Yeah… wouldn’t hang that in the living room.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore, like all the air had been punched out of my lungs. I felt like crying and crawling away in the smallest and darkest place I could find. It hit me, really, really hard. Having issues with perfection, I was quite proud of myself for being ok with something that wasn’t perfect, and then this. So much for ok, I put the drawings away in the attic and never had the courage to show them to anyone again.
Right now I’m reading “Daring greatly” by Brene Brown. It’s about vulnerability in a world where things are “never enough”. About the things we do to armor ourselves against being vulnerable and what it does to us and others and how we can learn to open ourselves up. I recognize a lot in this book. How I want to be perfect in everything I do, because I feel when I don’t I won’t be worthy of love. That’s why I was so crushed about the remark of my drawings. It wasn’t about the drawings not being good enough, it was about me not being good enough. Over the past couple of years I’ve learned a lot and yet it is still challenging to let go of the “perfection armor”.
I’ve decided to start challenging myself to try to not want to be perfect anymore. I know I can’t reach perfection and it’s not exactly making my life easier and/or more enjoyable. Instead, I’m aiming for being myself and knowing I’m good enough the way I am.
As part of this challenge I decided to add the drawings I made, because I don’t want to be afraid anymore of what other people think. And regardless of what others think of the drawings, I want to feel I am still good enough. Daring greatly by taking one small step at the time.