***i love the Dove True Beauty Campaign*** (just to throw that out there)
I think I’m a perfectionist. In fact, I know I am. I’m hard on myself…probably harder on myself than other people are on me. Odd, no?
It might not reflect in how I clean, or don’t clean my room. You might not see my battle in my wardrobe or in my handwriting. Yet you see glimpses of it appearing in my slave-driving methods towards getting an A in school or in caring too much about what people think of me. Maybe that’s why I get defensive if somebody accuses me of not trying hard enough.
I may not manage my time as well as I could or look exactly like I wish I did. But the desire to be perfect still lingers beneath the surface and threatens to overwhelm and stress me out.
I think that’s one of the hardest parts about not going back to Moody Bible Institute this fall. I want to be there. I do. Yet, I know that I am not back to girl I need to be before I go anywhere to school. It’s hard for me because I didn’t see this one coming—the moving back home and recovery process. My life has been so different than I wished it would have been but it has not been wasted. It has not been perfect…however, I find much satisfaction in the things I have accomplished and overcome while I’ve been back. I don’t like being told I can’t do something. Often, I’ll go out of my way to prove you wrong.
That’s the wholly secular side of things. The side the really matters, the spiritual one, suffers when Olivia tries to do things on her own. As much as Olivia would like to be perfect, she cannot attain this goal. She can stress and control things (well try) and try to do things on her own. She’s tried. She might be able to accomplish things. It all looks neat and pretty from the outside. Internally, Olivia dies when she does things on her own. Whereas, Olivia submitted to God is: much happier, at peace and aware that she doesn’t have to be perfect. She just has to be submitted and focus on using the abilities God blessed her with.
I don’t have to make As. I don’t have to look like that girl or act like her or seem competent in all situations. I don’t have to overcome being homeschooled or feel like a failure because I’m not going back to moody this fall.
Instead, I will live here and now. I will give my best but I will not kill myself to achieve something. I will apply myself. I will focus on being the best Olivia I can be. I don’t think any one else expected me to be someone other than me…I guess I just get tempted sometimes. I can still live a dream–just mine.
Not worth it. No double life here. Just one…just Olivia..no barbie…just me.
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I really think this poem portrays what many american girls fall for today. so sad.
Barbie Doll By Marge Piercy
This girlchild was born as usual
and presented dolls that did pee-pee
and miniature GE stoves and irons
and wee lipsticks the color of cherry candy.
Then in the magic of puberty, a classmate said:
You have a great big nose and fat legs.
She was healthy, tested intelligent,
possessed strong arms and back,
abundant sexual drive and manual dexterity.
She went to and fro apologizing.
Everyone saw a fat nose on thick legs.
She was advised to play coy,
exhorted to come on hearty,
exercise, diet, smile and wheedle.
Her good nature wore out
like a fan belt.
So she cut off her nose and her legs
and offered them up.
In the casket displayed on satin she lay
with the undertaker’s cosmetics painted on,
a turned-up putty nose,
dressed in a pink and white nightie.
Doesn’t she look pretty? everyone said.
Consummation at last.
To every woman a happy ending.
i’m not going to die like she did. it isn’t worth it. no how. no way.
we live in this culture that’s a addicted and immersed in “cookie-cutter” people. everyone seems so “perfect” on the outside. once we step out our front doors, our walls go up. we put on the “perfect” outfits and walk around like puppets attached to strings. i know i’ve been guilty of adhering to this unspoken code. it’s a struggle to be real because real isn’t always pretty. who made being real into being ugly? those were some messed up people…oh wait. i think i helped contribute to that by not fighting against it so many times. i’m sick of being sucked into this mindset…and yet somehow i find myself waking up in the morning threatened by the very same opportunity. it’s like an addiction–possibly emotional and physical.
honestly, i like life the way it is right now. i have the coolest life of anyone i know and i wouldn’t trade it. it’s not that i don’t have my issues–everyone does. there are things i’d love to change…some of them i can and some of them i can’t. i am a factor in my life…but God controls my destiny. i find peace when i give Him everything, including baggage and blessings. it’s amazing how “un-stressed” i am when i do this. stress is so consuming and so deadly. it saps the joy out of life. i believe being a “cookie cutter” person only increases stress. yet another reason not to be “perfect”.
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124588743827950599.html#printMode
