Flaws in the Diamond
I've taken to snort laughing. At home, at least. I kind of like doing it. It makes me laugh harder to hear myself laugh so goofily.
It's certainly a better flaw than picking through my hair and biting off the wiry ones. I do that too, sometimes.
Unhealthily, I've forgotten to embrace my humanness. I don't mean my humanity -- I mean my limitations, bad habits, and imperfections. I'd much rather be perfect; short of that, I'd much rather hide them and pretend I don't have any. "If they knew, they might be disgusted or offended." My Virgo brain has heard the saying that you can't please all the people all the time, but it still tries. All the time.
There's a downside, beyond the facade of flawlessness being something short of honest. Without any allowance for being less than perfect, I am stifled. I always feel guilty. Bad. Not deserving of affection, praise, kindness or love. Because my household and grooming falls short? Feh. I'd rather accept and move on. And, you know, breathe a little easier. Like Phoebe on Friends needing to live in a world where she can spill, I need to live in a world where I can be imperfect.
So, yes, I pick at my cuticles and I'm a little lax in the body hair management department sometimes. I have more stuff than I need or have room for, and there's cat fur on my curtains from where Jasper likes to look out the window.
And I don't care who knows it.
It's certainly a better flaw than picking through my hair and biting off the wiry ones. I do that too, sometimes.
Unhealthily, I've forgotten to embrace my humanness. I don't mean my humanity -- I mean my limitations, bad habits, and imperfections. I'd much rather be perfect; short of that, I'd much rather hide them and pretend I don't have any. "If they knew, they might be disgusted or offended." My Virgo brain has heard the saying that you can't please all the people all the time, but it still tries. All the time.
There's a downside, beyond the facade of flawlessness being something short of honest. Without any allowance for being less than perfect, I am stifled. I always feel guilty. Bad. Not deserving of affection, praise, kindness or love. Because my household and grooming falls short? Feh. I'd rather accept and move on. And, you know, breathe a little easier. Like Phoebe on Friends needing to live in a world where she can spill, I need to live in a world where I can be imperfect.
So, yes, I pick at my cuticles and I'm a little lax in the body hair management department sometimes. I have more stuff than I need or have room for, and there's cat fur on my curtains from where Jasper likes to look out the window.
And I don't care who knows it.