The truth is that "Perfect Person" you admire is seriously SCREWED UP. Yes, they may be cute, or smart, or wealthy, or cultured, or fit, or have a great job, house, connections, marriage or even color coordinated children, but the truth is they are a flippin' mess. And the worst part? No one knows.
Growing up, more often than not, I was referred to as, "Little Miss Perfect." I NEVER understood that. Why would someone call me that? I KNOW I'm not perfect!! I was never pretty enough, or smart enough, or talented enough, or motivated enough - why would someone call me perfect? But the stigma remained. I wasn't perfect, and I knew it - no matter what other people said.
Let me tell you a story.
Something had gone seriously wrong. I was losing it. All of it. I had just dropped my kids off at school and day care and decided I would park my car on the railroad tracks instead of going to work. It was more than a fleeting thought. It was a near reality. I called my husband, weeping. I just couldn't do "it" anymore. Something had to give. By the grace of God, I knew better than to let go of my family, so we decided right then and there I would stop working. I was graciously given two weeks off with no phone calls or questions and I still had my job when it was "over." During those two weeks I met with a counselor, and tried to move on with my life all while letting myself fall apart. And for the most part - No one knew.
One of the questions I had during my time of hurt and healing was, "What would I have to do? - For some reason people think I'm perfect, what would I have to do to show them I'm not? How far would I have to go to get someone to notice I'm a stinking mess? What would I have to do to get someone to actually see that I needed help?"
Parking on the railroad tracks was a good option. Maybe having an affair, or getting drunk in public would have been decent options too.
And still, only a few knew I was even having a "hard time." And, for most of the few, they only knew because it affected them when I could no longer meet their needs. You see, because others believe that "Perfect People" don't need me, I need them. But the truth is too many people around them believe this lie that they don't have needs and therefore; in reality, what they don't have is friends.
Yes, they might be intimidating. Yes, they might always look like they have all their *stuff* together. Yes, they may even seem to brush you off at first. But all of that is because the ARE NOT PERFECT and they know it. They understand their own imperfections more acutely than anyone else and honestly, it can be crippling inside. Be brave. Be strong. Be their friend.
Ah, but if you ARE friends with a "Perfect Person," like actually friends. Like you can tell them anything or ask them anything or rely on them for anything AND they feel the exact same way about you - PRAISE JESUS. You have and have done a wonderful thing. Because, let's face it, "Perfect People" can accomplish anything. You need someone to come to your rescue when you are in over your head on a project or deadline? - call the "Perfect People." You need advice about parenting or finances or community relations? - email the "Perfect People." You need someone to take your kid to school first thing in the morning because you threw you neck out putting your hair in a pony tail - text the "Perfect People." They are already awake, with the chores done, and their workout completed for the day anyway.
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