perfectionsm can go fuck itself :)

oh geez.

dear friends,

there are multiple essays breathing biting their nails in my drafts folder and thousands of bits and pieces mingling in my notes app, but i decided to write directly in a blank page of the substack editor tonight, which i’ve always thought is a little fucking insane because idk… like who does that? a lot of people apparently, but not me. no. i have to go through my perfect process of handwriting in my journal in a specific color ink, then transcribing into google docs before moving over here. why that’s perfect, i’m not sure.

oh wait! perfection isn’t a real thing.

and guess what¹… one of the drafts is actually about perfectionism, and how going to a jacob collier concert a few nights ago totally changed my relationship with the perfectionistic part of me.

the perfectionist would be terrified to write in the substack app.

the perfectionist wouldn’t admit she’s a perfectionist because naming it would mean she isn’t perfect already but aspires to be perfect… and if anyone were to find out she was *gasp* still learning, and does not in fact know everything or do everything the way she plans, or that she cries when she can’t figure out how to share her message in the most perfect perfect way that connects her with millions of people overnight, or that she’s tried and failed given up on starting a business literally a bajillion times… well she might as well go bury herself in a ditch full of broken bottles.

here are some things i used to be obsessed with attaining or creating the perfect version of:

the perfect man

the perfect relationship

the perfect ass

the perfect abs

the perfect diet

the perfect movement practice

the perfect business

the perfect feeling in my body all the time forever and always

the perfect amount of time to do everything i want and still never be tired

the perfect aesthetic

the perfect elevator pitch

the perfect 10k steps every day

the perfect knowledge of who i am

the perfect word for the unnamable feeling i am always feeling

and so forth

a lot of these desires have driven me to pursue goals and gather much knowledge and create brilliant connections. but my life is still a complete mess! surprise!

the thing is, i actively repel “perfect”

the other day my mom showed me a pillow cover she was thinking of getting. it was adorned with “vintage” beetle illustrations… i told her the illustrations looked too perfect.

if someone gives me a plan that seems remotely linear, i am going to fuck with it in a hundred different directions.

oh you want me to follow a recipe? you want me to make the cute little dish in bon appetit? sorry! halfway through it’s becoming something entirely based on my whims. and no, i’m not measuring. yes, even when baking. okay part of it is that i have a gift for the feel of doughs and batter and things but still. I did almost go to the culinary institute of america actually. but i don’t think they would’ve like my idea of butter sculptures. or whatever it is they do there. funny memory - when i went to visit, one of the professors asked what the tomatillo was related to, and i was far too proud that i knew the answer: the cape gooseberry. this was in my obsessive orthorexic/anorexic depending on the day food blogger era btw. entrenched in perfectionism like my life depended on it. yet my life was in absolute fucking shambles. a pattern, perhaps?

listen. this is getting kinda confronting right now. do i proceed?

perfectionist says absolutely not! it’s preposterous that we’d go any further!

i say yeah, sure, whatevs.

yeah i actually do say that sometimes. i also speak to myself and no-one-else in a british accent while i take walks and say L-O-L and I-M-H-O out loud, so i mean. do with that what you will.

but i digress.

i guess you could say i’ve been trying to find my people and place in the world since uh… forever.

nothing has ever felt perfect though.

i’ve run away from and/or submitted to many friends and situations that i didn’t know how to handle the imperfection of. i’ve been in really really shitty romantic relationships and i’ve been a really, really shitty friend because of it.

perfectionism has a tendency to throw a wrecking ball into everything it touches.

when it comes to the men… well perfectionism was the fixer. it made me stay and stay and stay, hoping i could be the savior. i martyred myself hoping to satisfy that little bitch on my shoulder whispering but if only you gave more and more and MORE, then, maybe, you’d be good enough. you’d be the type of healing a man really needs.

okay well screw that. i don’t want to be here to heal a man. that’s not partnership. i’m not going to get deep into this so please don’t yell at me. i know people heal in relationships. i’m talking about one sided giving. now hush. i’m moving on.

what else… hmmm. well the big one right meow is this business thing.

i mean, i love movement. i love art. i love creativity. i love what it does for my soul and my relationships and i love sharing not just about the creative art that is movement - but the practice itself. that’s what i want to do. share the practice. that’s what i’ve been trying to do since my first yoga teacher training in 2017. but i’ve bailed SO MANY TIMES and honestly i am just tired of it. tired of myself being so quick to let go of the dream when it doesn’t happen the way i envisioned it. i guess i can accept, at this point, publicly, that it is not and likely never will go as planned.

for example, my plan is to start offering some kind of movement classes on this lil space known as well fuck* ( i know i have changed it at least 50 times since i started. sue me. nothing was ever perfect enough. ha ha) as a way to share what i love. i have a very grand vision. it is way too much for me to handle all at once. i will have to do very small bits at a time because i know at this point i can only handle so much workload before i peace out.

so ya knowwww what!?²

i’m just gonna do it. little by little.

cus i bet all my silver dollars covered in tooth fairy dust that some of you will love and benefit from whatever it is i produce.

and that’s what really started the shift within me.

yes i want to do what i love, but more? i want to share something that’s valuable to you. that’s how i want to connect. with value. with rich, imperfect, human effort. with messy, wonderful creative action.

i refuse to look back on my life and wonder what would’ve happened if i’d just stuck with it. because i’m already wondering that about the past ten years and it feels like shit. so nah. no more of that.

imperfect action it is.

with that said, i do want to know from you, what you’d be most excited about learning with me.

eventually i’ll get around to it all, but if you’re more excited about one thing or another i’d love to start there.

another option that was too long to fit into the poll, which i might do regardless is… just chill together on zoom, share what’s up for everyone, and move according to that. idk i think it’d be a lot of fun and very messy and we’d learn many things.

so that’s all for this eve my sweet dear friends.

truly you all (you know who you are) make me feel more seen, loved, and connected in this world than ever in my life. and now i’m crying. and i love you <3 and thank you.

xx faye

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1. i have never understood whether to use a question mark after guess what?

2. and how about ya know what…exclamation point slash question mark? it felt right so i guess it stays