Perfect…now try that again


I never understood when people would say that after I attempted anything. I did something, “That was perfect, now try again”…um if it was perfect why would I have to? Perfect means I not only got what I was trying to do, I excelled at it. 

I started tennis lessons with my mom today. I don’t know if this ever happens to you before you try a new thing but beforehand do you envision yourself being the best, receiving dozens of accolades from those around you because you are the best, effortlessly. Well, if not, that’s how I am. 

I imagined myself being the best beginner tennis player of all time, being somebody to remember, someone almost perfect. Within  minutes of my lesson that fantasy was shot. I sucked really really badly. 

Per usual, I spent the rest of my lesson completely in my mind. I hate when people say that I can’t expect perfection because nobody can be perfect. I’m sorry, but how depressing is that fact? You can work your whole life at something and you will never be the perfect at it, there will still be mistakes drizzled on top. There is always failures engraved in everything you do, no matter what. That is a depressing consistency.

I just wish I had one thing to rely on. One thing that I know that I am perfect at, one thing that will never let me down, one thing that will give me a sense of pride because I am the best at it. I don’t know how my eating disorder  plays into that, I wonder if I had that one perfect thing if I would even have an eating disorder.

Perfection gives me a sense of imaginary security, nobody noticing by flaws but instead in awe of my abilities. Nothing else would matter, I would be perfect. My body wouldn’t matter because nobody would look then. 

That’s my disorder for you, the goal of perfection and nothing less.  Just another thing I have to learn to grieve instead of try to achieve. I will never be perfect, I will never be amount to the person who my disorder wants me to be. I just have to be Sarah, with pros and cons. I’d be lying if I told you that doesn’t depress me, it does, but I’m learning how to love the pros and the cons, even on tough days. Lesson today: if you want to get somewhere close to perfect at tennis, make sure to keep you wrists straight. Apparently it’s the secret to making it spin. 



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