Perfection.

"You're so mean,

When you talk, About yourself, You are wrong.

Change the voices, In your head

Make them like you Instead."

It doesn't matter how many times I hear this song, this verse resonates in my head.  For days.  D-A-Y-S people, DAYS.  

Self-Confidence has never(ever) been something I have had a lot of.  I know why, but none of that matters because it is up to me to change that.  I will never be perfect.  I know that.  What I will be is happy.  


What is perfect anyway?  Do we even know anymore?  If we do, no one is speaking up because our judgement is so clouded by what is 'in', who is thin, who is fat, who has cellulite(me!) and who has just entered into rehab.

For instance...

Wow!  HomeGirl needs to EAT!

Hold the phone, homegirl ate too much!

Here's the thing, homegirl is gorgeous.  And talented.  And gorgeous.  Perfection is what we make it.  


I have stretch marks.  A lot of them.  I do not love them, but I have them.  Oh well.  It makes me who I am and those stretch marks are the result of my body doing what it was supposed to do in bringing the two most beautiful people into this world.


I am more of a pessimistic than I care to admit.  I try to prepare for the worst so if the worst happens, I am not totally disappointed.  I've been disappointed a lot in this life time and I like to have a heads-up before it happens.


Which doesn't always go my way.


Which leads me to my next topic...


I'm a total b!tch brat.  I really don't think this one needs an explanation.  I am working it out and doing what I can to overcome this.  I don't like this part of me, but sometimes, she rears her ugly mug.  And people, it is not pretty.


My husband is amazing.  I still don't know how I got so darn lucky, but I did.  Because even when I'm acting like a total b!tch brat, He still loves me when I am the least lovable.  I don't always deserve to be loved, but he suffers through it all.  Loving me still, therefore letting me love him more than I thought possible.  Babe, you are the best!


I trust too quickly.  But the millisecond you mess that up, it will take lives to get it back.  Lives, people.  LIVES.  And sometimes, I will still question everything because I'm still not so sure you are trust worthy.


I am dark and twisty.  More twisty, than dark.  But definitely both of them.  I'm not perfect, nor do I claim to be.  I wouldn't want to be perfect anyway.  Then I'd have the paparazzi all over me.  And that's just not cool.


Perfection is in the eye of the beholder.  It doesn't matter what size you are, what you wear or who you are.  What matters is how you feel about yourself.  Because everyone is their own kind of perfect.