Who Were You Before Someone Else’s Story Defined You?

My father expected perfection.

As I get older (I’m 49 in a few weeks), memories from childhood come screaming into my head with crystal clear clarity at the most random times.

Things I haven’t thought of since perhaps they occurred.

A significant theme in these flashbacks is perfection:

The expectation of, and my striving for.

A 97 out of 100 wasn’t good enough.

I fell short of my full potential.

More. More. More.

My life was a sprint to perfection, and I was too young to see that I was destroying my inherent wholeness with every footfall toward the elusive perfection.

I thought I was doing what needed to be done to be good enough for my father.

A war I still fight to this day, but as of late, I’m winning more and more battles.

I think about this Charles Bukowski quote,

“Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?”

Who were you before someone told you:

“You’re a disappointment.”