The Imperfection Connection

Written by Christine Kane

Today’s post was written by guest blogger, Sue Ludwig. Sue is a neonatal occupational therapist and a published poet. She is a consultant to neonatal intensive care units around the country and a national speaker. She lives in Ohio with her husband and two children.

After dinner at one of Christine’s retreats, some of us lingered on the beautiful screened porch. It was late, and we slowly allowed the conversation to go deeper.

One of the women commented about how inadequate she feels in her neighborhood – a community where everyone is “just so perfect.” Immaculate homes. Genius children. Husband or wife, successful, outgoing…the stellar couple.

The rest of us (a few years older) smiled with empathy. We may have even chuckled.

We assured her — they too have sh*t hiding behind the pretty wreath on the door.

Life and its little problems do not care about your gated community, or lack thereof. They favor no section of society.

And living as if unscathed is exhausting, like being in a play that never ends.

The group offered her some unsolicited advice:

Find people who are through pretending everything is perfect. People who admit and even laugh at the fact they have tumbleweeds of dog fur under their bed, have been in debt up to their eyeballs, or ohmigod packed their child a “Lunchable” for his school lunch, (and not the perky fruit that the perfect moms pack!)

It is an agreement to drop the façade. Or as Christine would say, permission to live imperfectly.

Accepting imperfection does not mean we’re suddenly cynical, or lack ambition, or have spite for those people working hard at pretending. It just means we get to let go of all the ‘shoulds’ we carry around and all the societal expectations we assign ourselves. We get to do what we love to do. We let go of what tethers us.

For example, if you ever saw me attempt to sew on a button you may wet your pants laughing. It’s that pitiful. Therefore, my friend Terri is going to hem my daughter’s skirt this weekend. When we admit to imperfection, asking for help is allowed, and even encouraged. We’re able to see each other’s strengths because we’re not too busy trying to pretend we all have the same ones.

Once you become comfortable in your imperfect skin, like-souled people seem to surface at any type of event, even in line at Starbucks. It’s the Imperfection Connection.

Enjoy these people. Allow them to enjoy you. See what you begin to let go of, and how light you feel when you walk.

Yes, even in your perfect neighborhood.

Add to del.icio.us Stumble It! Subscribe to this feed Digg it


{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }

Lisa Muller January 20, 2009 at 1:09 am

Thank you, Sue!

Wonderful post. It is so freeing not having to live up to others’ expectations of how life is suppose to be.

Just you and your wonderful AUTHENTIC self… LIFE IS GREAT and getting better every day!

You are absolutely right “like-souled people seem to surface”. This seems to happen more and more frequently to me and I embrace each and every “Imperfect Connection!”

Mindful Mimi January 20, 2009 at 6:02 am

Very true Sue. I guess this kind of insight comes with age. I was pretending to be perfect until I hit my mid-thirties: after having a few kids, mortgages, professional doubts etc. Now I realise that trying/wanting to be perfect is hard work and keeps you from living your real life. Perfect people are also very boring. History is not made and products are not invented by perfect people. If it were all about perfect people, there would be no books and movies for the stories would just bore us to tears.
So instead of trying to be perfect, to improve our flaws, let’s focus on our strengths and how can we use them to make the world a better place. And the neighbour will be jealous, I guarantee!

Angie January 20, 2009 at 9:52 am

Thanks so much Sue. I love the “imperfection connection”. I think I have found it and have true friends in my life now. I love knowing that my true friends can come to my house at any time and will not judge the cleanliness of it. They have heard me lose it with my kids, have seen me cry over gaining back the same 20 pounds. It is amazing how much better we feel about ourselves when we realize that no one is perfect! Thanks again! Angie

Tisha January 20, 2009 at 10:11 am

Hi Sue! So wonderful to “see” you here this morning! Yay you for raising your voice and sharing your wisdom.

I’ve been dreaming of a tri-state reunion of retreaters soon… ;)

Love to you,
Tisha

Anna January 20, 2009 at 10:11 am

Have you been looking under my bed??

I could go on all day about this post and how much time I have spent in my life in search of what I (or my parents) thought was perfection. It was exhausting. I am now finally in a place where perfection doesn’t need to exist and I agree with Mimi that age can help us lose some of that need to appear perfect. That and a good slap in the head from the Universe….

Kim January 20, 2009 at 1:48 pm

I have found that the iron on hemming stuff sold at the fabric store has saved many a hem in my world. I embrace living imperfectly. Beats the heck out of what I was doing earlier in my life.

Kelly January 20, 2009 at 1:50 pm

Hey Suze, I can’t help but post a note.

Thanks for the humble reminder. I can name numerous times when I have let go of my need to be perfect and what I found was perfection in the moment. Go figure! Staying connected with those moments is important but extremely difficult. I love that we are growing imperfect together.

Love you!

Sue January 20, 2009 at 5:51 pm

Lisa, thought of you when writing this! Thinking about all those things you’ve let go of! :)

Mimi, yeah what is it about the mid 30s that does that to us? Thank God!

Angie, what can i say? Glad i’m among your real friends. :)

Tisha, forgot how close we are!! Road trip!

Anna, love the slap in the head from the universe!

Kim, i will buy some this week! I could master that type of hemming!

Kel, my buddy. Thanks for the email and the comment. You are among my favorite gifts ever.

Jeanie January 20, 2009 at 6:34 pm

Acceptance of how imperfect we are definitely comes with age. Sue, your post reminded me of the New Year’s party we attended this year. The couple is perfect. He is the consummate host. Her home is immaculate and sophisticated, she cooks brilliantly, makes her own clothes — and throws one helluva party. The weird part is that I recognized my “old self” in her and I didn’t like it one bit! I used to be exactly the same kind of Superwoman. How exhausting. I was so happy to go home to our falling-apart 100-year old house with its lived-in (read: untidy) contents. I am so happy to have learned what’s important… the people in my life, all of whom love me despite my imperfections.

Patricia January 20, 2009 at 8:44 pm

Excellent post, Sue. Thanks for the reminder that the most interesting people are the least perfect. Gosh, that must make me fascinating!

Lillithmother January 21, 2009 at 8:16 am

in my creative group, there are a ton of women admitting their fears, sel-sabotaging and not-trying-to-suceed-for-fear-of-failure selves. a ton. it’s comforting you know, knowing that i’m not the only one…laying down words of honesty, listening to others…and us all breathing a sigh of relief because we see we’ve got nothing to prove to one another exccept to stand in our shit and plod on through anyway.

thank you for this opportunity to reflect up it…

lil

Elaine Bailey January 21, 2009 at 9:17 am

Hi Sue!

Great post!

I especially love the ‘Once you become comfortable in your imperfect skin, like-souled people seem to surface at any type of event’ cuz it’s so true! Yay! for our ‘Imperfection Connections’.

It’s actually great to be imperfect!

Andrea January 21, 2009 at 8:11 pm

For me I think it is VERY interesting that Sue works in neonatal intensive care. From personal experience, I know that that is a place whereone can (I did) give up “perfect” very quickly and opt for more realistic grounded outcomes…sad or happy. And no one can see you and your family “perfect” again. However, in my experience, the number of people who came forward to console me and describe their own “imperfect” outcome was astonishing! I never can look at family making the same way again.

Sue January 21, 2009 at 9:00 pm

Thanks to all of you! Some of your comments made me lol!

Andrea, I’m not sure what your NICU experience entailed, but I can feel both the weight and the hope in your words. You’re right. There is no ‘perfect’ there, but the redefining of expectations, appreciation for the miraculous, and a million shades of hope and grief. I know no other place quite like it. Thanks so much for sharing, and describing the power of shared experience.

Leave a Comment

You can use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>