I know full well that I’m not perfect, but thank you for making me feel like a part of me could be.

I know that perfection is ultimately unattainable. It’s an unachievable concept in its entirety. I don’t expect to ever take part in anything that could be even remotely classified as perfect.

It’s a somewhat scary feeling, honestly, and there aren’t quite words to describe it. But, this much I know is true: you make me feel as though I have something perfect to offer. 

Whether I do or not is irrelevant—and realistically, impossible—but the feeling of having that potential is a beautiful thing.

Everybody deserves to feel as I do: finally, I have full confidence in the people around me. I’m finally confident that, if given the chance, they wouldn’t leave. 

In the past, people have been known to leave me. For once, with these incredible people I’ve surrounded myself with, I’m not scared of that. Not truly. 

I’ve always had an amazing family dynamic. Practically bound at the hip in a home so warm and comforting.

I’ve always felt safe with certain people, particularly the family I was born into and the family I’ve allowed myself to choose over the years. 

But, in recent months, I’ve realized more that life is entirely and irrevocably finite. So, naturally, I’ve become so easily scared that I won’t live up to the expectations set for me in this ephemeral life.

There’s beauty in that uncertainty, though it can bring distress if you don’t search for it. 

As a child, I mourned a major loss when I discovered that I could never be perfect. I had to put to rest the storybook future I’d built for myself. That apprehension was terrifying. It still is, but I’ve become substantially more aware of this lately: you love me despite my imperfections, so I must have something special to offer. 

You make me feel as though there’s perfection inside of me, and that’s something I’ve never had the honor of feeling before. 

You love me in spite of my idiosyncrasies, despite my countless flaws.

You love me because of my idiosyncrasies and countless flaws.  

You all are perfect to me. Completely imperfect and ultimately inadequate in the sense of the real world, but that’s what makes you perfect to me. 

It doesn’t matter if I’m not objectively “perfect.”

I never will be. You never will be, either. And that is captivating to me.

I know I never will be perfect, and that’s fine. But thank you for making me feel like some part of me could be.