White is perfection, but is black not? Love is perfection, but is hate not? I am perfect, am I not? Are you telling me I am not? On what basis? Wait, firstly, what is perfect? Is it not being precise in each and every prospect? What is precise then?
Honestly, I am not going to lie and say I don’t think I am perfect. I actually do think that. But don’t mistake that for ego, no. Over the course of my short life, I have come to the conclusion that belief in a specific thing or person is what helps them soar higher. Now, I won’t say that a lot of people believe in me, because they don’t. They want perfection. And honestly, I believe in myself a lot. So much, that it compensates for people’s lack of belief in me. It’s not overconfidence, nor is it arrogance. It’s just, “For me, this is perfect. If it’s not for you, well not my problem.” Sure, I listen to their advice and guidance, but at the end of the day, the fact that I am perfect sticks with me.
I am tired of striving for perfection. Who defines perfection? Who has the right to define perfection? And who says who has the right to define perfection? All my life, I have tried to be perfect. For my parents, my sister, my friends, my relatives; well, not anymore. If I do something, I believe it’s perfect, then it’s perfect for me. No, I don’t want full marks. If ninety percent is perfect for me, it matters not that it’s not a hundred percent. Because first prize doesn’t matter to me anymore. What matters is that I fulfil my expectations from myself.
Only I have the right to tear up a piece of writing if I don’t like it. Because it doesn’t meet my standards. Only I set my standards, which I see to it are high enough to be hard to achieve. I am tired and sick of people defining perfection and sticking it up on my forehead. It’s their definition of perfection, not mine. I am perfect just as I am to you, and to me, I have a goal to reach. And then maybe, I’ll be perfect to myself too. So, if you think I am not perfect, well too bad, I don’t care. For me, I am a version of myself that can be bettered. My goal is not to be perfect to others. My goal is to be perfect for myself. To be what I want to be, to get everything I have dreamt of in my life, and to achieve all I wish to achieve.
My best efforts in being perfect for others have gone in vain. Because someone wants me to be something, and someone else wants me to be something else. How can I be everything? And only then shall I be perfect? Perfect isn’t a tag you can put on people, perfect is a desire for flawlessness. Because whatever you will do, you will always have a flaw. But you will be perfect if you at least try not to have one. Everything has a fault, all that matters is how you try to overcome it.
If I am not perfect to you, then it does not mean that I am a problem. And if you think I am not perfect, I ask you one thing: do you think you are?