Fellow Females on Social Media,
Let’s talk about our language.
As an English major and a writer, a huge part of what I do rests on my love for language. The English language is a beautiful thing to think about -- imagine all the wonderful words we have, their stories, their ability to create change, motivate people, and convey stories.
There are a few words that make me cringe, like “moist,” “interesting,” ”unique,” “juror,” “blog,” and “synergy.” But the word I cannot stand most? “Perfect.”
The Oxford English Dictionary says that “perfect,” the adjective is “in a state of complete excellence; free from any imperfection or defect of quality; that cannot be improved upon; flawless, faultless. “
The closest I get to perfect is a grilled cheese sandwich at a pub off Belmont called Cheesie’s. Certainly each time I eat at Cheesie’s, I quip at the near excellence of their ability to make a gluten-free grilled cheese sandwich with bread that rivals that of a normal person’s diet. Each bite more delicious than the last, I feel overpowered with sadness each time I finish a Cheesie’s sandwich -- which might be one of the greatest marvels of Chicago. But perfect? I would never call this glorious gift to humankind perfect, although I certainly would call it delicious, inspiring, and even life affirming.
Let’s look back at that definition. “In a state of complete excellence; free from any imperfection or defect of quality.”
The main place I see “perfect” is on social media. It fills the comments section of my Instagram stream and Facebook News Feed, and it makes me squirm almost as much as the words “moist,” “interesting,” and “synergy.”
You’re so perfect.
Before I tell you that you are not perfect, let me explain that I am far from it. I am most definitely not in a state of complete excellence. This week I mistakenly wore brand new pointy-toed flats in a rainstorm, I spilled chia seeds on my kitchen floor, I tripped up the stairs in Arts & Letters, I forgot to answer a super-important email, and I dropped an F-bomb in front of a group of kids. I’m not in a state of complete excellence. I learn every day that I’m absolutely not free from any imperfections, that I have things to work on and ways to grow. “Flawless?” “Faultless?” Please. Not even close.
We don’t use “perfect” to tell people they are literally in a state of complete excellence and free from any imperfection or defect of quality. We use it as a placeholder. We’re not using the words we really mean: accomplished, beautiful, strong, brave, brilliant, funny, witty, kind, passionate, driven, creative, courageous, bright, ambitious, diligent, adventurous, philanthropic, fearless, independent, honest, hardworking, faithful, talented, stellar, intellectual, gregarious, optimistic, persistent, polite, powerful, reliable, patient, positive, sincere, thoughtful, warmhearted, sociable, confident, successful, supportive, gorgeous, fun, lovable, loving, genuine, graceful, intelligent, or tough.
None of these words imply absolute, fully realized perfection because it doesn’t exist. We affirm the abstract, when we should be acknowledging the impossibility of perfection and highlighting the qualities that we’re really admiring about others. Our beauty is in our imperfection, in the lessons from our moments where we absolutely can be improved upon, where we discover our flaws and we work hard to unravel them.
Telling people they are perfect pressures them to see themselves this way, to push to an indeterminate end and to stress about flaws that should be seen as opportunities, to not focus attention on accomplishments and on all of the incredible, exceptional qualities they possess.
Telling someone they’re “perfect” comes across with some tinge of jealousy on your end, not of admiration or affirmation. It continues to perpetuate the way that social media can be harmful to people and their body image and self-concept. Marking someone as perfect sets them as a standard that other people see, and I don’t think that’s something we want.
Let’s not lie and tell each other we’re perfect; let’s not pressure each other to assume that we can be.
Perfection isn’t even interesting.
