I've struggled with a fear of mediocrity for as long as I can remember. Failure isn't even the issue, it's about not excelling, or more precisely, not being labeled as the most adept. I've managed, quite aptly over the years, to beat out most people in the room at whatever it is I'm attempting and simultaneously to avoid everything that might threaten that outcome. I'm sure you know my type. You've seen us, we're the Martha Stewart's of the bunch. We've got our shit together. We've got an arsenal of information and advice and maintain organization and routine in even the most stressful of situations, all while baking organic vegan muffins. Our kids eat vegetables, we're the weirdos that love cleaning, making lists, yard work, and exercise. It doesn't even seem feasible to operate this way, but over the years I've honed my skills, and my life is as real on the inside as it looks on the outside. Intelligence is a minute component, although being regarded as intelligent is as important as the image we project. There's an intense motivation to succeed and that's what actually drives the level of achievement.
But, there's a deeper layer lingering there, the true raison de etre, something my younger self wouldn't have seen and may not have been so quick to admit to even if I had. It's an intense fear of vulnerability. Or, at least, at its origins it was a fear. After years of self reflection and transparency, fear may no longer be the driving force. At this point, it's a habit, a way of living. I wouldn't even know how to be any other way. It would feel inauthentic and unnatural.
Sharing this with you is less, for me, about picking apart why a fear of vulnerability exists. We'll get to that another time. Instead it's about being human and embracing your baggage, your modus of operandi. If you're a person, living in this world, you've got some shit. It's inevitable and that inevitability is beautiful. It unifies us as humans. We're all just trying to get through each day with our monkeys on our backs, learning how to traverse through our relationships with open wounds. We're never alone. It's the journey of our species, and I hope that you'll join me on mine, exploring the gifts that my scars have given me, while realizing your own perfect imperfection.