develop self-compassion because you'll mess up again, again, again
When I was a teen, I possessed a naive supposition that, after a certain age, I would know exactly what to do. I've never not known what to do as much as now. Accompanied by this muddled loss is something older, ancient: shame, the deep-seated conviction that I am inherently flawed. I expect other people to reject my "self", because deep down I reject myself and all my flaws.
There is one thing more frightening than perceiving myself as flawed, and to me, it was always being perceived as flawed by others. I think that's why I'd grow angry when I heard the phrase "If you aren't making mistakes, you aren't growing." (It does come from a good place, and I also use it as a last-resort comfort.) Because I lividly thought: who cares if I am growing, when I'll be perceived as defective by others? The inner monologue (correction: past conditioning) has always worked hard.
But the self isn't a project to finish and perfect. This is a game of endurance, on you'll have to survive for the long run. How come you're approaching it with a finite mindset, like there ever be an end goal? You don't have to write down all your flaws like a to-do list to completely eliminate them from yourself. Your flaws will always exist within you. And you will fuck up - oh, if there was something I can tell my younger self is that I will fuck up again, and again, and again.
And the world won't end and your world won't end.
I want to develop a kind of self-compassion that allows me to ruminate in my humanness and ugly mistakes. I won't wait to be whole, because that means I will wait forever. No, I will run. I will walk. I will crawl. I will limp. I will continue while my stray, jagged pieces are still coming together. I will push through and persist, despite, despite, despite.