And we heard, "You have to be everything"

8am and the weather man said we'd have rain all day, all week, and I sit here comfortably with my legs crossed in the big pink chair in the formal living room. Admiring through the floor to ceiling window, I see the green of the forest and sunbeams stabbing through the swaying branches of the sky-bound pines. The sun has arrived so unexpectedly as if to say where is your faith? and that gives me a very real sense of hope. Maybe our story isn't finalized when the weather man announces it on the local station.

It's a tragedy that we cannot predict for ourselves, instead we rely on a man or woman we don't even know to tell us what the future will unfold. Yet, why would I trust myself? The voice inside my head repeats, You are good, but that's not good enough, because good enough is not perfect. As I look outside again to see that the sun is still there, I know it's deceiving. Although it looks as if the sun could warm a body, it's a lie. There's no heat in that light, it's still spring and the cool, moist air is invisible from here.

Just as the sun deceives, I too look into the mirror in the morning and cover up the blemishes. Add color to my cheekbones as if they were more defined and not so pale. Mascara brushed over my eyelashes to hide the illness that might be more visible in my eyes. In an effort to appear put-together the closet ends up strewn out across my bedroom each morning. I've convinced myself that I love my wardrobe, continually adding more pieces to it in an effort to be more creative or, perhaps, more put-together.

There's this idea that no good thing will ever become perfect without hard work and self-discipline. For some reason I equate self-discipline with self-deprivation. Although, I understand less is not more, it seems to be a self-motivating action. The perfectionist in me says that it will work, if not now, next time. There has to be a way to step up from good, to better, to best.

It's hardly the middle of the week. I read and watch the media around me. Graduations are underway. There are graduates of medical school, law school, masters programs, and second or third degrees. Many of my peers are exceptional people. They are accomplishing great things. A young woman has recently been ordained as a pastor of my church, changing the world with her love for Jesus and passion for service. Another woman my age has been acknowledged for running the fastest mile and racking up 80 miles a week. There is another young woman who writes with such rawness and grace that I could never mimic. Many others are quickly rising far above the average in their careers. These young women are kinder, more loving, more passionate, more put-together than me. And so my logic tells me: they are getting more gold stars than me, therefore I am not good enough. 

I do understand that with my personality type being an ENFP I have an uncanny desire for perfection in myself. The desire for independence without being labeled, to rise above, and inspire others. How could I possibly inspire if there is nothing in me worth aspiring towards? As a female in our society today, I understand that we are often told what and who we should become. As an ENFP, who runs from being labeled, this is difficult. As a woman this is extremely sensitive. Sometimes we feel that being a perfectionist is less about doing everything perfectly and more about punishing yourself for not doing everything perfectly all the time.

It doesn't stop there. The past few weeks I've been reading a book, God's High Calling for Women. The author, a male, pulls apart I Timothy 2, in which he proceeds to write to women about their role in the church of God. In my desire to be the perfect godly woman, this book has been incredibly difficult for me to process, accept and propel myself forward to becoming the perfect godly woman.

Instead of accepting the words I have read I have continued to research for myself. When God says, "Let us make mankind in our own image; male and female he created them," there are two different Hebrew words used to denote gender here. "Zakar" for male and "Nequebah"for female.

Zakar means a call to remembrance or to worship, the Lord God who saved him.

Nequebah, the Hebrew word for female, literally means punctured, bored through. Author Larry Crabb continues to delve deeper into the meaning and suggests that the Hebrew "Nequebah" means -

"to be opened while arranging yourself consistently for a larger purpose than you." 

So whether we are men or women, that is what love does. It serves, by setting captives free, by giving a second chance, or third, or fourth. Not only loving each other, but ourselves. Giving myself a second chance.

While reading this week, I came across a post by a young woman on this very topic of imperfection and it's destructive cycle and I felt so inclined to share. She shares her belief that we are not inadequate and we are enough:


Only too late did I find out how many people feel this way, even though no one talks about it. It shocked me to realize that I wasn’t the only one going through this, that even the peers I admired most felt inadequate, that the façade I measured myself against ruthlessly and mercilessly didn’t actually exist. In real life and on the internet, we’re plagued by the Facebook effect. Everyone’s accomplishments are public but their insecurities are invisible. It creates a vicious cycle. We are all fueled by each other’s successes, trying to race against a receding horizon we cannot reach, which just makes us feel less worthy.
It seems as though this internal, destructive drive towards perfection is more of a female phenomenon. Granted, maybe it’s because I’ve mostly spoken with women about it, and this isn’t to say that men on this campus don’t suffer from anxiety, depression, and the overwhelming pressure to achieve, because they do. But it’s women who are taught to be pleasers from day one, and it’s women who somehow are never able to say no. Courtney Martin captures this in her book, Perfect Girls, Starving Daughters, in a quote that gave me chills the first time I read it (emphasis mine): 
“We are the girls with anxiety disorders, filled appointment books, five-year plans. We take ourselves very, very seriously. We are the peacemakers, the do-gooders, the givers, the savers. We are on time, overly prepared, well read, and witty, intellectually curious, always moving…We pride ourselves on getting as little sleep as possible and thrive on self-deprivation…We are relentless, judgmental with ourselves, and forgiving to others…We are the daughters of the feminists who said “You can be anything” and we heard “You have to be everything.” 
It’s hard to ask for help because that means we have failed at the basic goal we have aspired to for years – self-sufficient, effortless perfection. Asking for help, and accepting that it is okay to do so, means rejecting that framework entirely, and accepting that we can be valuable people, worthy of love and friendship, even if we didn’t score the internship or win the election or get the A. It’s incredibly hard to do, and I wrestle with it every day.
We are already accomplished and compassionate social justice leaders – we know how to be kind to others. We need to be kinder to ourselves.


While I sit here and continue to reflect and write I am facing a challenge much greater than offering grace to the deceitful weather man who predicted rain. But rather I must extend grace to myself. If we don't learn to give grace to ourselves we'll never learn to give grace to others. 

So God has prodded me toward a new way of thinking to let go of my old habits toward extreme self-improvement. It's not about being perfect. Instead, it's about being as kind to myself as I am to others. About being as generous to myself as I am with others. Believing in myself as I believe in others. It's about opening up myself to a larger purpose - the plan of Salvation of humanity. I do not have to be perfect to be part or that plan. I do not need to be perfect to receive love. The love I will receive for being myself is the greatest Love of all. Who I am is always good enough for Him and His plan for eternity.

Comments

  1. The future is perfect. It's the present that is flawed. Maybe that's why the future can be so difficult to deal with.

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  2. This strikes a good chord within my heart. So many of this feel this way and it reminds me of one of my favorite authors....

    “Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we're all in this together."
    ― Brené Brown

    Tina I love that you are ENFP!! I love that you cry when you are sad and when you are excited!! I love that you see a way things should be and you do it!! You are amazing!!

    Tina thanks for being raw and writing from a place of vulnerability. :) I appreciate that!! Love you

    ReplyDelete

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