Perfectionism is Shame in a Minx Coat

“…at some point in a woman’s life, she just gets tired of being ashamed all the time. After that, she is free to become whoever she truly is.” -City of Girls, Elizabeth Gilbert
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In speaking with my cousin, he said nonchalantly: “If you skip a season in your life, you must make it up later on in life.” This got me to thinking (as most things do), I feel that I’m experiencing my childhood only now. The frivolousness, the innocence, the playfulness, the free-spiritedness, the wonder, the surrender, the awe, the tantrums, the frivolity, the curiosity.
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Growing up the daughter of a conservative pastor was by no means a horrible childhood. It was, however, a very censored one. I was expected to be the picture of godliness. At the time, holiness meant skipping the messy/silly/loud/boisterous/curious stage and embodying perfection. In that sense, I grew up too quickly.
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I heard it said, “Perfectionism is shame in a mink coat.” Seems about right. I’m exchanging the notion of “holiness” as rigid and censored for freedom, fluidity, and foolishness. I’m not trying to have it all figured out (who does?). Instead, I’m getting my hands dirty, creating boundaries, giving myself permission to look like a damn fool (which I’m certain I did when I shimmied about until 3am alongside the professional dancers of the Mexico City Ballet), saying yes to experiences where I’m not in control, and cackling without inhibition.
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We are lovable. Period. We are holy. Period. We are wonderful. Period. Whether we choose fear or love, censorship or crudeness, politeness or honesty. So. My advice today is simple: You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.