Perfection

She came into my office one day and said stoically, “Doctor, help me”. SHe was almost expressionless, but there was this glint in her eyes, a glint that came and went in the space of a nanosecond. If I had blinked then, I do not think that I would have seen it. 

Oh my, what help she needed. 

Sitting down in the reclining chair, she closed her eyes, and meticulously unlocked and did away the many locks and bolts that trapped her secrets in her, the very imperfections that she was so eager to rid of. But unlike information stored on a memory card, the memories that she had in her could not be erased. 

I saw her for who she was, how she grew up. 

She was a little, imperfect girl, whose priorities were candies and pink and Barbies. Love and care did not matter to her then.

She was an emotional teenager with raging hormones, imperfect still, whose priorities were boys, makeup and love. Love, in the romantic sense. 

She was a Harvard graduate, imperfect like she always had been her whole life. Her priorities were getting a job, money for bills, and love. Love which comes from her family.

Only then did she realise that she had been an empty shell void of love all this time. All this imperfection and lack of love, threatened to push her off the edge of sanity, and she constantly dangled precariously on the edge, trying to stay on. 

Uncaring, workaholic parents fed, clothed and neglected her, fortunately not abusing her physically, but unfortunately, abusing her emotionally. 

From then on, she strived and yearned and mourned for perfection without the vital element of love. Yes, we all know that it is impossible, but how could she, a relic, a generational error, a shard from a broken world, possibly comprehend that?

Hence perfection came in the form of wealth and success. With only the television set as her companion in her early years, how was she to know that perfection was not all about wealth and success?

So, she began building up her success, and in the meantime, also building up the claustrophobic four walls of defense around this imperfection of hers subconsciously. She moved away from her family and severed all communication means with them. Over time, she was this famous, big-time lawyer who was clamoured by many. 

However, was she perfect? No, she was not. In fact, she was far from perfect. SHe was trying so hard not to fall into the inferno of insanity that the more she tried, the closer she got to falling. In the end, she was nothing but this over-worked, incompassionate robot that had unknowingly programmed itself for failure when she began building up her success. 

Thus, the next time you see this successful, wealthy person, pause to think before assuming that she was perfect, because she might well just be the very opposite of your opinion of her. 

As they say, nobody’s perfect. But I do not agree. Love is important, and if you are void of it, you are a nobody. Thus, if you want to be perfect, you have to be a “Nobody”. However, I know that there is nothing such as a perfect human being, but we are brought closer to perfection by the love given to us by others and the love we give to others. 

Do you love? Are you a nobody?