My aversion to perfection was recently openly displayed to all with the ending of the latest Bachelorette Australia season. While most were cheering for Lee, the seemingly “perfect” one, I was behind Matty all the way – the underdog, fun-loving, not-too-serious but totally-in-love one.
Everyone would say, “but Lee is perfecttttt, how could you not go for him?”, to which I would simply say, perfect = boring. Your jumper, straight smile, and constant conversation agreement = boring. ( But in saying all this, I do think Mr. Perfect was / is what Georgia Love requires or was most suited to – especially with a name like that ).
Maybe I am a masochist or some other twisted creature, but the idea of perfection always, with no lows, is not actually that appealing. I’ve grown to learn through my experiences that without those lows ( even the most frustratingly and endlessly difficult ), it’s hard to even notice the highs; to appreciate the after, or even the little things throughout.
I like that I’m not perfect, and know I never will reach that status of absolute perfection. At least I have things to always work on, always be doing, and always learning from. I like having a messy room, arguing at times, and walking around with breakfast stains on my skirt – even if the laughter doesn’t come until later. Makes life a little more interesting – you never know what you’re going to get, what mood you will wake up in, or who will decide to be a grump that day.
If my life was perfect I would have a laid out plan ahead of me, which does sound somewhat appealing right now ( too many decisions, too much brain overload ), but navigating through whatever comes is the risk I take in being human. Just as my non-perfect forefathers and foremothers before me.
This shoot on the other hand? It gets pretty close. Socks and sandals ( ❤ ), denim, 70’s vibes – speaks for itself.
(Images from here)