Yes, I’m IMPERFECT

Dear Society,

Hope this letter finds you in your best state. First of all, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for making me write this; if not for you this wouldn’t have happened. May be you don't know me, as I'm one among the too many. Yes, I’m the imperfect.

I am not a great child to my parents. I have brought them lot of pain, emotionally and psychologically. I have made them sell their property for my studies. I have made them spend nights and days making me understand my curriculum. I have made them search for stuff that I had lost during the day, real expensive stuff. I have made them run to the hospital with me.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not a good student. I didn’t score great in my exams. I never had a centum in maths. I have neglected many chapters during exams. I have not practiced previous year question papers. I have performed bad in many tests and failed in few. I was never the class topper. I didn’t clear my degree with distinction.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not a great employee. I have skipped the accepted timelines of issues. I have crashed the servers. I have updated wrong data into the database. I have taken offs without informing. I have tailgated many times. I have not kept up with the expectations at work.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not a great art student. I have skipped my art classes. I have faked practice. I have lost competitions. I have not excelled in my field. I have performed badly at stages. I have taken my teachers for granted and not respected their advice.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not a good daughter in law. I do not cook like my mother in law. I do not keep up with the time always. I do not do the dishes regularly. I am not available at home all the time. I do not serve food or drink to where you are seated. I do not dress up in saree always. I dress up in night clothes even during the day. I wake up late. I don’t fold clothes every day.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not a good mother. I don’t be with my child always. I did whine about breastfeeding. I complain about getting up multiple times during the night. I feel like slapping my child when his tantrums are extreme. I complain about not being able to have the ‘me’ time. I do feel bad cleaning his pee and poop. I do not do the washing of his dirty clothes with my full heart.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not a good citizen. I have travelled without tickets. Not respected signals. I have littered the roads. I have skipped voting.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not the beauty type. I have blemishes on my face. I have pimples and facial hair. I am not of the perfect figure. I don’t look awesome in any attire. I am shapeless.

Yes, I’m imperfect.

I am not the super type. I am not a person whom the rest of the society can look up to. I am no good. I make mistakes. I am not excellent. I don’t even know if my birth is worth. Yes, I accept it. But I am striving hard to improve. The intention to improve is burning in my nerves. I am trying hard and working my ass off. Yes, I am putting in my heart and soul and what not to what I am doing. Value me for who I’m. Don’t degrade me for who I’m not.

More than anything, I am who I am and I have my own milestones. Do not rate me with your scale. I am running my race. Don’t expect me to run yours. You never know what I undergo/went. As science explains, what you see is just the tip of the ice berg; 98% in invisible. Just because it is not seen doesn’t mean it isn’t there! Beware!

Thanks in advance for your understanding.
(I know that you didn’t and you won’t as you don’t want to!)

Yours sincerely,
The IMPERFECTIONIST!!