the myth of imperfection — like, says who?

I hate the phrase “nobody’s perfect.” It’s a lie we swallowed to soothe mediocrity, to avoid accountability, to shrink ourselves.

What if perfection isn’t about being spotless, but about remembrance? What if it’s situational, subjective, cultural, spiritual?

Perfection isn’t something you earn — it’s something you were born with. Even bruised, grieving, loud, messy, holy. Still perfect.