Listening to the radio this week, I was struck by how many songs out there mention the word “perfect.”  “You are perfect,” they sing or, “I am perfect just the way I am.”  While I understand these songs are about the good ideals of acceptance, and loving yourself just the way you are, labeling ourselves as perfect is unwise.  The definition of perfection means you’re faultless, complete.  Oh really?  There’s nothing else you need to learn?  Now in my thirty’s, I can assure you, that’s not true.  Though still young-at-heart, I’m not the same person I was at fifteen.  Life’s experiences have broadened my understanding, and helped mold me into what I hope is a better person.  Yet, even now, I know I’m not perfect.  To stubbornly think so would leave me stagnate on this road of life. 

Society, in general, focuses on the physical human form when speaking about perfection.  I suppose in a world where a doctor can lift, tuck, or insert inside, this kind of perfection is attainable.  But unless you strengthen your inner character, all you’ll be in the end is a pretty wrapper with a withered, rotten soul.

Instead, focus on the inner you, looking honestly at the character flaws we all have.  Don’t be discouraged by them.  Remember, with discipline, even the worst habits can be conquered.  Start, by choosing one you’d like to improve.  It will not be easy, and some will take more time than other flaws to overcome, but think baby steps.  Even if you only improve a millimeter at a time, it’s still progress in the right direction.  If you need to call these goals perfection, go ahead, but I say perfect-shmerfect.  I’m a work in progress.