I’m Not Perfect

To cringe or not to cringe. If you asked me what is one of the most cringe-worthy things I hear people say, it’s informing me that they “aren’t perfect”. I don’t really believe they think they’re saying anything. It’s almost like the “how are you” that store workers sometimes ask but don’t really want you to answer. It’s just words.

If we look behind the words, though, then it becomes a duh. Who really would think anyone is perfect? Perfect? If perfection is a personal goal, get ready for a lifetime of self-flagellation and lost participatory opportunities to experience real life and grow.

Isn’t saying we’re not perfect really a soft buffer keeping us from taking responsibility for our actions/inactions? It’s a close cousin to “well that’s just the way I am”. Don’t both give us slightly masked excuses for not stepping up to what someone else is really asking us to respond to?

When I hear someone tell me they aren’t perfect, I hear the muted Charlie Brown trumpet that the old televised cartoon used every time an adult spoke to the kids. Mwah mwah mwah. Usually, the person who uses this phrase with me turns out to be someone who takes longer to look at themselves.

So my answer the next time I hear “I’m not perfect” will be: what is it you are afraid of looking at within? That’s the vulnerability part that wants to be sure it will be okay if it dares to show up. My role is to help you see that it is okay to take a look and that this phrase is a protector part. Parts have good intent, so I welcome and name them. When parts are heard, they soften and let us see what’s deeper underneath.

So actually, I’m not going to cringe anymore when someone tells me they’re not perfect. I need to remember to step back from my parts first. This phrase is a beautiful entree into their system.