Imperfection is Perfect!

I learned about a terrifying new app that turns people into aliens. It makes sense considering I’ve heard the Kardashians use it. On the right no makeup, on the left is the app.

Sure I have been guilty of using filters, shadowing, and selfying (yep that’s a verb now)…but really? Isn’t this a bit extreme? Are people now so conditioned they must slim their faces, raise their cheekbones, and enlarge their eyes and lips in order to take an acceptable selfie? On top of the photo and personal identification manipulation, the app is called Perfect365. This only proliferates the ideal we must be perfect every single day and if we aren’t…hey there’s an app for that! How boring that sounds. Who wants to look or be perfect every single day? I know I don’t. I’m pretty sure there is not one person in our society who actually is perfect, no matter how much Kim or Kanye want to think they are.  In our inevitable imperfection is where we as humans can cultivate growth-growth within our selves, our relationships, our professional lives. Imperfection is how we learn who we truly are.

I will admit, there was a span of many years where I strived to be perfect and I faulted myself everyday for not attaining it. I picked and prodded myself over it and this not only resulted in a very poor and incredibly unhealthy body image, but very poor self esteem which lasted for almost half my life. Those are years I will never get back. Those years are shrouded in disappointment and regret.

I have since learned how to love myself and others and embrace the imperfections. I found myself through my imperfections. As I said above, it is through imperfection we grow not only as an individual, but collectively as a society as well.  Thus an app propagating instant and constant perfection terrifies me. When is it too much? What is the threshold? I think those are questions each person can answer only for themselves.  Should you use the app? Well it was interesting to see what my nose would look like if it was squeezed together. Should you live by the app? Hell no. 

Just my two cents. 

I Am Not A Southern Woman

I am not a Southern Woman. To my grandparents chagrin, I will never be a Southern Woman and it is living in Arkansas that helped me come to this realization. It is not that I don't want to be. I come from a long line of strong, southern pioneers, on my mother's side, who traveled these lands in covered wagons wielding shotguns and lassos and all that other cowboy frontier stuff.  It is amazing to think my ancestors -not the Italian ones- wore cowboy boots on the regular when I feel like I am putting on a costume every time I slip into my red boots. How can something that runs in your blood feel so foreign and unnatural? Is there not a thing called soul memory? It is like muscle memory but passed down through generations. I digress..

The Reasons I am Not a Southern Woman

1. It seems most southern women are able to achieve a perfect relaxed wave/curly thing in their hair. I have tried and no matter what I do, mine turns out to be crinkles. Thus, when crinkled hair comes into style, I've got that shit on lock down.
2. Football isn't my sport. I don't get it. I've tried. It doesn't click. I like baseball. Baseball makes sense. Baseball tushes are the best tushes. 
3. I think pick up trucks are weird looking.  
4. Sometimes that Southern drawl drawls on for way to long. I'll take that quick, direct Northeastern accent any day of the week.
5. I burn cornbread. 
6. I don't understand the difference between Red Dirt Country and regular Country...is it more dirty? I'm not sure. 
7. I can't pull off that Southern Sass that is both cute and sexy at the same time. When I do it, people just assume I'm pissed. So now I avoid it at all costs. 
8. It is so quite here at night. Sometimes I find myself hoping that an alarm goes off or someone feels the need to use their horn...this brings me to...
9. Rarely ever does anyone use their horn. I don't get it. In the NE it is used as a form of conversation. My Uncle Frank, regularly says "hey" via car horn when he enters the highway and he is usually met with replies of varying degrees.  When I lived in Texas, I was once pulled over for frivolous honking. That's a thing apparently...and I still don't apologize. 
10. Lastly I am not a Southern Woman because I am not into Cowboys. This is the automatic disqualifyer. I should just stop trying