Perfectly imperfect

Leona Petch - 23 Jun 16

I’ve always admired other people. The style of the woman browsing the sale rack next to me in the clothes shop – how does she look so effortlessly cool when I only have 2 looks: going to the gym (neat hair, no sweat) & finishing the gym (messy hair & more sweat!). The people with fabulous, glamorous jobs – don’t get me wrong I LOVE my job, but theirs sound so much more interesting. The people I pass when I’m running – they’re breezing it, they look so composed, they make it look easy while I am a sweaty, snotty, heaving mess. The people I know who can knock up a healthy, tasty dinner while keeping their kitchen clean & doing the washing up all at the same time – I can cook, but inevitably something will burn, or I’ll drink too much wine & I never, ever do the washing up. The mums who look so composed, never lose their tempers & seem to have it all together – it’s a miracle if one of us leaves the house on time, fully dressed without our breakfast spilled down our t-shirt in our house.

Instagram, Facebook & all the other social media sites seem to highlight these ‘perfect’ people too. Everywhere we turn we are faced with ‘perfection’, people living fabulous, uncomplicated lives, people we aspire to be like. I ‘follow’ many of these people & spend too much time drooling over their accounts wondering why my life is a bit all over the place in comparison to theirs? Now, I’m a realistic person, I know a persons life can’t all be hearts, flowers & unicorns but they still make me feel inadequate. While I’m writing this I’m sitting in my kitchen drinking a big cup of coffee (I should be drinking healthy mint surely?), looking at the floor which needs mopping (nothing like the immaculate homes you see on IG), wondering if I can be bothered to put make up on today (the mums I’ve seen today all look perfectly flawless, I should make the effort), trying to plan Henry’s dinner (I should really have made something, one of my FB friends made organic cookies for her baby yesterday) – do you see where I’m going with this?? It’s impossible to measure up to our own expectations & the expectations of others & for this I secretly love to hate those ‘perfect people’. I’ve accepted that my life is a bit of a happy mess & that I’ll never be one of ‘those people’. I’m ok with that, I know perfect doesn’t exist & I think those people who showcase their flawless lives on social media are frauds. I’ve convinced myself that they must be pretty insecure and pathetic if they photoshop their selfies with their baby to get rid of eye bags and messy hair (we all have them, it’s called being a mum), if they constantly tell us how happy they are, how much they love their husband/wife etc, how wonderful their lives are (this morning I shouted at Martin, got dog poo on my hand when a poo bag split & dealt with a nappy disaster, all in the space of an hour). Why do people need to pretend these things don’t happen? Do they do it to make the rest of us feel bad?

So, you’ll be as surprised as I was to hear that last week, someone (a new mum) approached me at work to tell me that she really envies how ‘together’ I seem & confessed to stalking my FB & IG accounts to see my ‘perfect life’. She actually said the words “you’ve just got it all, lovely house, husband, gorgeous baby. I’m so jealous”. I was astounded. Surely she had me muddled up with someone else? My life isn’t perfect, in fact it’s very often utter chaos. Then it dawned on me…..I am becoming one of ‘those people’.

Scrolling through my IG account I see lovely pictures of my gorgeous baby, photos of us on sunny days eating ice cream, images of my handsome puppy who is inevitably doing something cute with the baby, pictures of us outside together while the sun is shining and we are grinning like idiots. There is nothing there to suggest that my life is anything less than utter perfection. Now I know full well that straight after the photo of Henry looking adorable cuddling porter, he had a huge meltdown because I wouldn’t let him eat porters’s dog food. I know that the picture of us all smiling on holiday was followed by a huge family argument about something incredibly petty. I remember finding the right, most flattering angle to take a photo of me and Henry that sunny morning & deleting at least 10 because my face looked fat. The point is that I’ve always viewed myself as the outsider, the one who doesn’t have it all together, the one who is just happily muddling through trying not to cock things up too much. I never had any idea that other people see me as one of the people I happily hate. Why wouldn’t they though? To those who don’t know me that well & follow my online accounts my life does look ‘perfect’.

Initially this horrified me & I vowed to instantly start posting more ‘real’ pictures to show the true me. But, when it came to posting these pictures, I found I was very reluctant & realised this wasn’t because I don’t want people to see the chinks in my armour (believe me, there are many). Life is hard, motherhood is incredibly tough, things aren’t always rosy & in fact on some days things can be down right awful. The pictures & things I post on social media make me feel more positive, they’re the bits of my life that I want to share & feel happy about. On a bad day looking at a photo of Henry and I having fun makes me realise how lucky and happy I actually am. How would posting about my awful & stressful my morning was or uploading a picture of me looking crap & Henry crying make me feel any better? It wouldn’t. My accounts show the bits of my life that I’m proud of, the things I’m happy about, the people I love, the experiences I’ve enjoyed – the positive, fun, lovely stuff. That’s surely not a bad thing is it?

That’s when I realised that all the people I’ve been secretly hating are probably doing the exact same thing. They have bad days, it’s just that they choose not to broadcast them to the world or share their sad days with people they don’t know. The culture of sharing and social media means we know a great deal more about people that we used to. We feel like we know the people we ‘follow’. We’ve seen inside their homes, watched their babies first steps, know what they’ve had for dinner and so we forget we don’t actually know them. Somehow social media makes us feel like we have a right to demand that someone shares every tiny little detail of their lives….the good, but also the bad and the ugly. People who only share the good, funny, beautiful bits are often labelled as fakes, or even worse we believe they are utterly perfect and put them on a pedestal to be admired. It’s not fair to hate people because their lives seem perfect and, let’s face it, we are envious of them. Their accounts are a reflection of their good bits and their happy times, they’re not trying to deliberately make us feel bad. In fact they’re probably trying to make themselves feel good & trying to see the silver linings on grey days.

So I’ve deleted all the ‘real’ photos I planned to post to show everyone that I’m not one of those people. I will continue to post photos that make me happy and capture the special moments I want to share, but I have learnt that it’s ok to let your guard down every now and again. If I’m having a bad day I might just share it!

No one is perfect. The search for perfection is likely to be a long and unfulfilling one. If you’re following my account it might all look rosy and fabulous, but rest assured 50% of the time my life is a chaotic, disorganised, happy mess. There is definitely no perfect here, and we are ok with that.

Leona Petch

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