The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are

A book that touched my soul. A book that summed up everything I couldn’t quite grasp on my own—the foundation of the life I want to live.

When my mother saw this book in my hands, she asked me, ‘So? Did you learn to love yourself?’ At first, I didn’t understand what she meant, so I asked her to clarify. She then pointed to the cover. It’s funny that when I first saw it in the library, I noticed the same thing, but after reading the book, I forgot about that phrase because, for me, it wasn’t about that.

Of course, if you look at it very superficially, you could generalize and say the book is about that. But the phrase ‘Love yourself as you are’ feels off-putting and clichéd to me. You can’t just decide to love yourself. Anyone who’s tried knows that.

Just as love for another person is made up of different moments, love for yourself isn’t just love. Love for yourself is allowing yourself to live, to live despite everything and for yourself.

It’s about growing in what interests you; being compassionate toward yourself (not to be confused with pity!); believing in your resilience; knowing your worth; accepting all your emotions; trusting yourself and your feelings; enjoying yourself, and being committed to yourself.

Tell me, doesn’t that sound simple? Right?

Finding a home within yourself and settling into it isn’t easy. There’s always something in the way—sometimes it’s us, sometimes it’s the outside world. And the latter is the hardest. We fear condemning ourselves to loneliness by going against societal expectations, but does the world really think there’s only one right way to live?

There’s a phenomenon called pluralistic ignorance. It boils down to this: one person supports a certain norm because they believe everyone else does, and it’s the right thing to do, even though others don’t actually agree—yet they also believe everyone else supports it because that’s what’s expected. So this norm remains unchallenged, even though almost everyone disagrees with it. Wikipedia gives us an example: Pluralistic ignorance can lead a student to participate in a drinking marathon under the mistaken belief that most other students approve of it, when in reality, most don’t—but they behave the same way because they share the same flawed (but collectively self-reinforcing) beliefs. So, by not knowing ourselves, we fall into the trap of societal hustle chasing values that aren’t truly important to us.

And even when you start walking your own path, despite others agreeing with what you’re doing, you’ll still face resistance. Because they’re afraid themselves. Because they’d like to do the same but can’t. Fear pushes people to try to make everyone the same, to conform to the rat race for expensive cars, beautiful apartments, and country houses. It pushes us to compare ourselves to others, to always be ‘okay’ but just a little better. We envy and resent, and keep running. What difference does it make what I like or what feels right to me, if I’m still falling short? I need more. I need better. It saddens me not because I’m on the wrong path, but because I still lack something.

The feeling of lack fuels our self-doubt. Brené writes: ‘I realized that many of us have bought into the idea that what brings us joy must be extraordinary. We measure the value of human achievements (and sometimes even a person’s life) by societal recognition. In other words, value is measured by fame and wealth. Our culture quickly dismisses quiet, ordinary, hardworking women and men. In many cases, we equate the words “ordinary” with “boring,” or worse—“ordinary” becomes a synonym for “meaningless.”’

But it’s the simple things that give us value—moments, relationships. I don’t remember where I saw or read this scene, but it stuck with me: two lovers watching a sunset, calling it cliché but still enjoying it. Why is it cliché? The sun sets and rises every day, but does it always do so when I’m with someone who makes me happy right now? Something simple constantly fills us, something simple we recall among friends. Something ‘simple’ is life itself. And in the race for the ‘complex,’ we miss these simple moments and things.

This doesn’t mean you should give up your home or car—those are great goals. The important thing is to ask yourself: Do I need this to be socially accepted?

And then, if the answer is yes, it’s time to think about the gifts of human imperfection.