An Open Letter to the Comment, “You’re Perfect”

Dear nonchalant “You’re perfect,”

You are a sneaky one, my friend. People toss you around, not thinking of any of the consequences. You make yourself look so small and insignificant, a compliment of the highest caliber. And the people who use you as a compliment are sweet people who just want to be nice and appreciate someone, and I have nothing against them. You are the one who can be destructive, seeding insecurities in a person’s heart like weeds in a garden. We don’t like to plant weeds, so I’m writing you this open letter so that everyone (or at least all of my readers) will see what you can do. 

Perfection is a crazy goal. On the scale of excellence we see: good, exceptional, out-of-this-world-amazing, and the best anyone has ever done. Somewhere on that scale is the best that any individual can do. And at the very top of that scale is perfection. Perfection is unattainable because we live in a fallen world. 

And every time someone someone compares another person to perfection, they subconsciously put perfection on the scale of attainability. It raises the bar for their achievement to that level. And it really is mostly about achievement. They don’t have to be perfect for everyone all the time because other people don’t actually expect perfection from them. But they expect perfection from themselves. And every time they don’t fulfill that expectation, they feel like they’ve let themselves down.

Some people have said that the hardest person to forgive is yourself, and that’s because, try as you might, you cannot just run away from the blame and make excuses for yourself. And that’s especially true when you expect yourself to not make mistakes. No excuse will ever be enough, even when your transgression is something really dumb or unimportant. 

So, every time someone says, “You’re perfect,” I die a little inside. They may have the most pure of intentions, and the other person may be completely secure in their identity. But maybe they’re not. And if they are insecure with this idea of perfection, that comment can make that person feel misunderstood. Because they know they’re insecure, and that comment makes them sad but nobody sees it or knows why. Everybody else thinks it’s a compliment for goodness’ sake! And it’s actually really isolating to feel like you have to be perfect. 

This is a slight tangent, but “Your imperfections make you perfect” is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. No. Just stop. Why are we so obsessed with perfection? Why can’t we just accept that we’re not perfect and stop trying to make perfection the ultimate goal? When you look at imperfections the right way, they are beautiful because they remind us that we’re human. 

So when you look at yourself in the mirror, don’t expect perfection. When you look at yourself through the lens of perfection, chances are, you’ll only see where you’ve failed and where you weren’t good enough. That’s what the perfection lens likes to highlight. It doesn’t show you that you’re good at playing piano, or that you can do the splits, or that you have a passion for helping out special needs kids. It doesn’t show you where you’re beautiful. But you are. And don’t you forget that. And please, just stop saying “you’re perfect.” 



Epylle Spydre


You aren’t Perfect. But that’s Okay.

Hey guys! I just really want to write today, not completely sure why…

Today, I am inspired by this picture, taken by my lovely sister. She captioned it: reflections. And it was that word that caught me, because I was reminded of a quote. The funny thing is that in looking for that quote, I found another quote about reflections that I really liked. Our lovely friend, Pablo Picasso, said, “Who sees the human face correctly: the photographer, the mirror, or the painter?” And knowing who Picasso is, we can guess what answer he was trying to get at. But it does bring up an interesting question, so I decided to dwell on it today.

The photographer sees the human face through the lens. Though it is a person, it is the lens who captures the photo, and lenses won’t be biased about a person. The photographer could mess with the angle or the setting or the editing to put in their opinion of the subject. But the end result is a realistic view of a person. Sherlock Holmes would be able to deduct all sorts of factual details about the person from the photo, but alas, no one can truly know someone from a photograph.

The mirror is trickier, because the person looking through the mirror is you. You, who know all of your triumphs, all of your faults, are the one judging yourself. This view is even more realistic than the photograph, because you see everything. You will see that terrible mole under your eye. You will remember when your carelessness hurt that one person. And more often than not, that’s all you will see. You could be conceited and just find yourself incredibly gorgeous. But most of us will see ourselves and see our faults. 

And the painter. The painter offers the view of you that is least based on facts. The painter is not only looking for the shape of your nose; they are also looking for the sparkle in your eye, the confident flip of your hair, the lips that offer words that comfort and console. Even if the painter has known you your whole life, they will not see you as the person who makes mistakes. They will see you as the beautiful, glorious creation that you are.

Because that’s what artists do. Artists reveal the soul of their subjects. And yes, sometimes they show the bad stuff to prove a point and speak the truth. But artists do not look for the ugly. They look for the beautiful. And that is why, even when they paint that detested mole or ungainly jaw of yours, they don’t see it as something ugly.They see it as the truth. They see that you are not perfect. But they’re okay with that. Because they know that they are not perfect either. You aren’t perfect. I am not perfect. None of us are perfect. And we can be so much more forgiving of each other and of ourselves when we realize that. 

But because we fail, because we are irrevocably not perfect, it can make us see and appreciate the beautiful even more. 

Epylle Spydre

You are beautiful

So, I really shouldn’t be writing this. I legitimately told myself, “Even though it’s a Friday afternoon, I need to do work. I need to focus.” But I really feel led to write this. So here goes; hopefully this doesn’t take too much of my time away.

You are beautiful. Let me just say that. You are beautiful. I know that there may be plenty of people who read this that I have never met in my life, but I still know that you’re beautiful. Call me religious, but I know that as a human, you are made in the image of God. That makes you beautiful. 

I know that as a teenage girl, our outward appearance means so much. You may not care what clothes you put on your body, but somebody is sure to judge you for it. High school is terrifying; it really is. And there is so much pressure to be perfectly thin, with gorgeous makeup and a “fab” hairdo. We see magazines and advertisements everywhere, all plastered with gorgeous women with so-called “perfect bodies.” And we want to look just like that.

So we diet. And exercise. Or maybe we binge or never eat at all. We get plastic surgery or go to the tanning salon to get that “perfect glow.” 

You call that perfection?

Why are we so worried about the judgments of other people that we hurt ourselves to fit that impossible image of perfection?

I have a problem with the idea of perfection in general. We are in a fallen world. Nothing is perfect. But we forget that, and so many people try to cater to others’ views of perfections that they end up losing themselves in the process. And that’s not just physical “perfection”; we also try to change our character for other people. 

And when we do that, we lose ourselves. Our real self gets lost amid all the junk that we’re putting on over it. And so many people feel like they’re not heard. 

That’s who I’m really talking to here.

I want you to know that you are seen, you are known, and you are loved. 

Sometimes, loneliness can be so powerful, that when just one person stops and talks to you, it brings tears to your eyes. Because when people do that, you know that you’re not a wallflower. Maybe the world isn’t such a bad place after all. Somebody saw you. They saw through your loneliness or whatever it is you’re dealing with and just stopped to show you that you’re not alone.

You are not alone.

You are not nothing.

You are beautiful and so, so very precious. 

Epylle Spydre