I heard something yesterday that made me think (typical).

Essentially, it was talking about how we are all a little broken in our own way. We all have a story - a reason we are the way we are. Maybe we have a reason we lash out or behave a certain way. 

I for one, know that when I am broken, I don't lash out at others - I lash out at myself. 

And I lash out hard.

This year, was, the toughest of my life, I would say. But it was also the year I learned the most. The most about my coping strategies, my tendencies, and my, well, brokenness.

Because I was - I have been - broken for a long time. I could sit here and write a book about everything that led me to my brokenness (and yes, I'm working on that in my spare time), but instead I'll give you the one word summary of the cause.


I've been striving for a level of perfectionism that is simply unattainable - probably for my whole life. The past five years or so, this need has magnified, this desire has intensified. 

The problem with striving to be perfect, though, is that you'll absolutely never get there. And if you don't realize this to begin with, if you are not OK with never truly attaining it - you will slowly kill yourself, one shot "just short of perfect" at a time.

So again, I could go on and on, but the truth is, the mindset I have been in, the one where I thought I needed to be perfect in every way, has been slowly killing me over time. And each time I don't live up to perfect, each time I feel a little more broken, I lash out, at myself - and I lash out hard.

Which, as you can imagine, puts me even further from perfect, because, perfect people don't self-destruct. Perfect people are perfect!

But guess what? 

The "perfect people" I described in my head... they don't even f***ing exist.

That's how warped that theory is.

And, though I've come to this realization time and time again... though I realized I needed to change my mindset about 9 months ago - I still fall back every day.


I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed for what I went through. I'm ashamed at the thoughts I manifested in my own mind. I'm ashamed at the behaviors that ensued. I'm ashamed of my self-destruction.

I'm ashamed at my need for perfection. I'm just ashamed. 

Of it all. Of every part of who I am.

And when I feel shame, when I feel broken, I lash out, at myself - and I lash out hard.

It was in the same conversation I heard yesterday about us all being a little broken, that I realized what it was I needed to do in order to move forward.

I needed to forgive. 

I needed to forgive myself, for all of it - for everything.

I need to forgive myself for needing to be perfect. I need to forgive my self for self-destruction. I need to forgive myself for being the butt of my own self-deprecating jokes each and every day. I need to forgive myself for every wasted day, every wasted night. I need to forgive myself for dark thoughts and dark actions. I need to forgive myself for allowing what others think to control my every move, my every thought.

I need to forgive myself. I need to move on free of shame.

What a gift, that is, to forgive myself and start again. To, rather than think, "where would I be today had I not constrained myself for so long," I think, "this is where I am today, and I'm excited to see where I am tomorrow."

I forgive myself. I forgive my self-centered approach to living. I forgive my obsession with myself instead of others. I forgive my disorders. I forgive my mind for tricking me for too long.

I forgive my demons for taking over, but I am also not welcoming them back in the door.

I forgive myself, dammit. I just forgive myself.

And what's more, I am proud of myself. Proud of myself for forgiving, proud of myself for moving forward.

I am grateful that my demons had their place, because I can now help others that may deal with similar things, that may need to feel less alone.

I am grateful, I am proud, I am forgiving.

I am moving on.

Anastasia Warren