Imperfection is way more interesting than the alternative.

As humans, we’re partial to anything out of the ordinary. We’re suckers for a story about a three-legged dog, a disabled athlete, a pig on wheels who’s beaten the odds by being different. These stories share a common thread — they speak to courage, self-acceptance and unapologetic individuality (animal and human alike).

Ironic, then, that most of us tend to hold ourselves to impossible standards of perfection.

All of us are imperfect, flawed, different in our own way. It’s what makes us interesting. Some wear their singularities on their sleeves. Some try desperately to hide them. But everyone’s got ’em, so why are we all so afraid to let ours peek out?

A lot of unhappiness stems from failing to be true to ourselves due to an abject fear of of rejection and disapproval. So we do what other people want, follow the road most traveled by, bow to the whims of society by creating false public facades; all the while image-crafting ourselves into the square peg we think we’re supposed to occupy. And we remain miserable.

Meanwhile we’re standing with the underdog, cheering for the transgender child and crying happy tears for a splayed-leg lovebird learning to walk.

I think that the unconventional and atypical awakens in us the oft-stifled desire to let the world see what’s wonderfully weird and imperfect and abnormal about each of us. Instead of hiding it behind plastic surgery and picture-perfect Instagram filters, we desperately long to be unapologetically ourselves.

Happiness is about owning who we are, flaws and all.

Seek out the truly happy people on this planet and you’ll find they’re not hiding behind any facades. They’re wildly imperfect (as are we all) and ok with it. They’re not afraid to let the world love them as they are. Now THAT’S something to shoot for.


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