I am not a perfect person. Sometimes I forget that the point of living is to live, not to stack on an assortment of trophies for existence. Not to prove an unnecessarily prevalent point on the betterment of everything. I spent a lot of time watching the Barbie movies and, like almost everyone, lost the actual point of the movies. Barbie teaches many things, but what really stayed with me was that all lost things will be found.

The journey takes on many forms, the value of having someone to hold dear and that sometimes against all odds, perseverance really is all that a person could need. But I lost the preface that Barbie lives through every journey, not a passive version of it, not a pacifying part that relinquishes the odd while celebrating the bold and beautiful—instead the highs and lows are treated with regard. So I watched all the right things and somehow learned all the wrong things.

It’s sort of how society is. A version of life has taken root. The pursuit of perfection. And this is not simple enough to take a single form—it takes the appearance of many.

The presence of law and order in a community is so the rules are followed and that the masses do not descend into chaos, but this has become perverse. It has become an unstated race, because it is distasteful to point out that something as special as life has been turned into a competition. The race for who appears more perfect. And so expression is shunned, and creativity takes the back seat. Minimalism has become front and centre; the noise has become stereotyped. Lip fillers and body modifications have become as trivial as running to the grocery store to grab a toothbrush.

I am an advocate of freedom, I would be the first to stand up and applaud all these modifications if they weren’t done to appease society. Sometimes it almost feels like nameless and faceless people decide how the life of each speck of the universe goes. Some things are deemed acceptable, others are not, in all this, the rules are set. Fit in and become some version of perfection or lose your place.

This has caused a lot of confusion; people have lost bearing on who they should be and what they should need. It has become a “What’s the next thing I can do to be as much as so and so?” Social media is so incredibly beautiful and highly toxic, as the deadly flowers usually are. A creator recently said she drew back from social media because of how addicting the validation of people can be. A certain reassurance of wrong will indefinitely make anyone believe that all their wrongs are right. That up is down, and everything moves how they say.

They say it is beholden to the people with the lowest of intellect to deflect to looks when they do not have a solid defence of their argument; however, in today’s society, I'd argue that the easiest way to make someone lose their semblance of control is to point out the lack of perfection. The ways in which things are falling apart, all of it accentuating how their life does not fit into the puzzle of perfection.

I am not grand enough to say I am above this; I succumb to it most of the time and try my hardest to not be. I like validation, but I have made it a point to not base my entire existence on this. I can be wrong; I could also be right. It depends on the day, how much I know and how much I am willing to learn on the subject matter. For people who will mostly live while improving on different aspects of life, we seem too hung up on the appearance of perfection.

It has bled into something as sacred as relationships. People can sometimes choose to love and date someone due to the pyramid of perfection: how perfect they are to others, how perfect they are on social media, and how perfect they are financially. How their life embodies some version of perfection that anyone else craves. So affection is bought solely based on perfection, an exchange, and how your presence improves upon my already existent perfection. It is on this basis a choice is made—and the consequences are accepted.

We have lost all empathy for a lack of this perfection. It is a part of why the poor are treated so badly, to say the least, why homeless people are worse off than dogs, and why society feels so comfortable commenting on looks, body types, and structures that do not fit. Even in the arts, there is no permission for the imperfection of being a learner. Everything is called cringe. Everything is discarded until it takes on an appearance that a few people deem a version of perfection. It could be as degrading as a version of a person that takes on any form of mistreatment with no form of disgruntlement or complaint.

This insane need for perfection. The impossibility of attaining it. All of this is a vicious cycle that goes on and on and on and on. The truth is, the reward of getting better is getting better. The reward for knowing more is a desire to learn more. To grow, to build. I accepted this early on, that there will always be someone better than I am, prettier and smarter and all the versions of perfection that I dream of. But that does not subtract from who I am and the apparent lack of perfection is not reason enough to put my life on pause.

I have seen many people who have locked themselves up in some way, waiting until they have attained this perfection that feels like fairy dust before living. I have seen someone that says they won’t open themselves up to love until they reach another version of this perfection.

It is so sad to see society chase a perfection that it will never attain. The people that sparkle the brightest to me are those that accept this imperfection anyway, not as a problem to fix or a flaw to hide but as a beautiful part of what makes them whole, if everyone chases the bubble of perception and Barbie houses. Who will be real and will what is real even be acceptable anymore?