Paah- fection

I’m impatient. I’m also crap at not being good at something (there’s a sentence for you). My learning curves are supposed to be straight. I want brilliance – immediately. I’m an aspiring writer, I’m learning the ropes, I’m starting a new career. But I have a little friend, a toxic friend, the kind that can send you into therapy: Perfectionism.

My friend Miss P. won’t allow me time to figure this all out; I’m just supposed to know.

Positive thinking rained opportunities down upon me, now I have to swim to the surface for some air. My planner is suddenly busting at the seams with articles to write, stories to revise, a journal-training course to complete, this blog to compose; not to mention all the mundane, never-endng household chores and errands. I don’t have a time-slot or brain-cell left available for learning anything.

So, for now I’m just going to do what I know best: Write. And I’m going to try to give myself a break; admit to myself I’m a beginner. Let the mistakes happen and the learning begin – naturally. Perfectionism doesn’t like mistakes. Perfectionism would rather that I give up than look stupid. But you know what, Miss P.? You ain’t sabotaging this one…

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