Seek to Be Whole, Not Perfect

Dear Oprah,

Are you there? It’s me, Kim. I know it’s been a while: one month of a writing hiatus later, and two months after re-stumbling upon this incredible quote when I was in a place of tremendous self-doubt. It’s funny how we happen upon whatever it is we need the most, when we need it most. Things, words, songs, comfort foods, people.

Apparently things kind of fall to the wayside when you’re a grown-up. I used to be baffled by how anyone could abandon personal projects or, worse, dreams and visions at the forefront of reality. Time management! I’d say to myself, whilst shaking my head. If I was able to juggle two-and-a-half jobs, 18 credits a semester, and a social life, so could everyone else.

But I was being selfish. What I didn’t realize at the time (just a few months ago, to put into perspective) was that I was living in this strange utopia called college. You’re living the ideal, somewhere between a first taste of independence and a safety net ready to catch you the moment you stumble. But once you’ve donned your cap and gown (figuratively speaking, because I opted out of attending graduation at all), rose-colored glasses are suddenly tinted no more. There are more bills to pay, loans to return. Paperwork to file, a 9-5:30 to do. There’s career, commuting, food (when you remember it), and what’s left of your time is often designated for sleep. Plus, when there’s a relationship in the picture, you can’t be so selfish anymore, not if you want it to work.

Not that this is any new news; every 20-something is currently rolling their eyes, and every 40-something year old is laughing. I’m not claiming anything; if anything I’m just bemoaning under the guise of observation. Adulthood and independence come with strings attached, and truth be told, I’m a little sad about not (actively) learning anymore. This mental freedom—a relinquishing of space for other things (mostly menial at the moment)—has given me more time and room! But instead of using it productively, I’ve turned to focusing on (again) the menial. Like, running errands. Picking which restaurant to try next. Nit-picking on all the things about me that aren’t perfect, and more often than not, letting it eat me alive.

So, Oprah, thank you for your sugary chai lattes and green-sleeved intervention. This is the third time I’ve gotten this sleeve, so it was either meant to be or an indication that I frequent Starbucks far too often. Whatever it is, this is why you’re Oprah. And when you say something, America better listen.