I’m a recovering perfectionist.

Perfection is something I strove for. Worked towards. Hide behind.

My desire for perfection overwhelmed me, consumed me, and distracted me from the work I really needed (but didn’t want) to do.

It sucked my energy dry leaving me exhausted, unsure, empty & feeling incomplete.

In a vain attempt to hide my deepest belief (that I wasn’t good enough) I threw myself into trying to be, appear, become what others (& myself) expected from me,

A process that left me hollow & numb.

I’ve let go of my old ways. Stopped looking for, waiting for, or trying to create perfection.

In the process, I’ve shifted from doing external and/or superficial work to doing the harder internal, deeper… the messier work.

I’ve come a long way. I still have a long way to go. Always a perpetual student…

After years, I’ve narrowed down the areas that matter most to me. And, those create the biggest impact on my life.

The others…
I’ve tried to let go.

I’d like my legs to be thinner. My arms more toned. But I know (because I’ve tried countless times) that working towards that in an attempt to love my body is not the way to go.

I want my health to improve. But years of obsessively focusing on improving my health only left me feeling worse.

I’ve tried being the perfect girlfriend. The perfect friend. The perfect host…

Waiting for the perfect time. The perfect person. The perfect situation…

All to realize –
Perfection both exists. And, does not.

Perfection as a standard is an illusion. Yet…

The imperfect is perfect in it’s own way.

This is a chronicle (a journal of sorts) of my journey to self mastery. To improving myself all while accepting that even if I don’t, I’m still (always was & will be) ___ enough.