perfect?

While I may come off as an open book I rarely scratch beneath the surface. Sarcasm is my natural defense mechanism, and I often use dark humor to avoid my feelings. When sitting down to write this post I realized how little people truly know about me. What I let the world see is merely a facade.

So what have I gone through that’s so traumatic that it warrants a post? I grew up in the suburbs. My parents are still together. I live a posh middle-class life where I go to cycling classes and eat $10 Acai bowls. Compared to others in the program my life has been a cakewalk. So why do my trivial problems affect me so deeply while others go through unimaginable pain with such strength.

At first glance, I seem to have it all together. I work incredibly hard to keep up this image. I am going to graduate magna cum laude from the University with a dual-degree. I run two e-commerce shops. I’m a member of the Houston Food Bloggers Collective. I’m a brand ambassador for Kellogg’s and a local cycling studio. I’m a brand ambassador for Kellogg’s and a local cycling studio. I run 6 Instagram accounts, practice yoga, I’m a Wolff scholar, and I juggle a demanding social life. Sadly, no accomplishment has ever made me feel whole. This unattainable goal of perfection wavers over me like a dark cloud. “Maybe if I accomplished more…”

Upon deeper inspection, you’ll begin to notice all the flaws I work so hard to keep hidden. My inability to ask for help when things get difficult. My natural tendency to run away from problems rather than face them head-on. My crippling insecurity. When you grow up getting bullied for the way you look vanity somehow creeps its way up to the top of your worries list. For years I struggled with depression and eating disorders. I avoided mirrors, skipped events, and slept more than a normal person should in hopes to escape. I never felt worthy of love. I never felt beautiful. I never felt strong or powerful. As I’ve gotten older I’ve learned to mute the voices in my head that tell me I’m not good enough. While it’s gotten easier there are still nights I stay up crying in bed wondering what else I need to do to prove my worth to the world. This desire to be perfect has always driven me and led to my demise at the same time.

I’m currently learning to allow myself grace. There will always be someone ahead of you and someone behind you. We are all running our own race, and contrary to popular belief life is not a competition. I’m learning to accept my flaws rather than allowing them to hinder me. Afterall, flaws and individuality are what make a human being interesting. They make our stories worth telling. As they say in yoga, the light within me loves, honors, and cherishes the light within all of you. Thank you for allowing me to share my story. Namaste.

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