Most of my childhood and early teenage years were spent trying to find perfection outside of family. I would want an alternate to replace my family members, and friends even.
I would dream of being understood or expressing myself louder in a new setting. Of good uncles or aunts who are open for argument. Of friends who just get it. Of course, imagining a different set of parents.
I slowly had to just accept that there is no alternate parents or a family that I can get. Maybe I set myself to disappointment, when I replaced teachers to be that kind of intellectual guides. Or found adults to vent to, but was disheartened to see that everybody is human.
[Now when I see my teenage students being kind to me, I am always shocked thinking I didn’t like seeing human frailty in adults. So, grateful! Of course, had my fair share of mean students but then I know better to not take it personally.]
I thought I had stopped looking for ideal versions of thing in people, and just being grateful for whatever version of a person that I come across. I don’t look for ‘soulmates’, just someone easy to talk to and be with. But there is always a shadow of perfectionism lingering that keeps me alienated.
I guess, this is me reminding myself to let it go.
It’s quieter now,