Be Afraid of Being Perfect: A Reflective Piece By Kayla Doria Ward

By Kayla Doria Ward

Art by Juliette Kostolova - 2024

Growing up, I had extreme social anxiety and OCD (Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder). I also lived in a town with a majority of closed-minded views. Being different coincided with being ostracized. To break the traditional mold of views, style, routine, or appearance meant something was off about you. And people didn’t have the time or capacity to give “different” a chance. 

Throughout my Montessori and primary school years, I had a very particular way of expressing myself. I’d wear colorful, and at times nonsensical, outfits to class—rainbow suspenders, patterned tutus, and sometimes full-on Halloween costumes. I have vivid memories of being so happy and proud of the way I’d assemble my outfit in the mornings. My mom likes to remind me that she’d open my closet and let me pick out whatever outfit I wanted for school. If it weren’t too distracting or heavy, then she’d send me on my way. 

I didn’t like to talk to kids I didn’t know or even be in an unfamiliar environment. I was constantly worried about what people around me thought. But my clothing was like my armor. If what I wore made me happy, I had no care for anyone else's opinion. This trend continued up until around fifth grade. Then everyone started wearing more muted colors, fewer designs, and trending items—plain hoodies with logos and uniform hairstyles. Once middle school arrived, you had no choice but to follow a strict dress code. My armor started to feel more like a target for opinions and disinclusion. 

So, naturally, I started to follow the herd. Plain colored hoodies with a simple trending logo, plain pants, plain shoes, straight and perfect hair. Perfect. To blend in and be accepted is to be perfect. So at the age of 11, I started waking up at six a.m. to do a full beat of makeup and straighten my naturally beautiful curly hair. I remember feeling so scared and ashamed to show what made me unique. Something my beautiful mother passed down to me that I was already ruining to avoid being perceived. 

Right on the cusp of my freshman year, I started to notice things I couldn’t fully control. It drove me to create a hatred for myself: my skeleton-like figure, lack of curves, and pale complexion. Looking back at how intensely I’d compare myself to others online and in real life makes me so heartsick. I was so scared to be different and break from the mold that I started trying to gain back control. Using self-tanner that made me look like AppleJack from My Little Pony. Buying push-up bras despite my rectilinear figure. Perhaps it had let me have the illusion of fitting in, or maybe nobody noticed at all. 

My first semester of college gave me some of the most eye-opening, freeing experiences of my life. Suddenly everyone around me had armor again. Different armor that fit one another. I met so many interesting and confident people; I consumed the positive and unique perspectives like a sponge. I started looking into how to care for my curly hair, thifting one-of-a-kind pieces, and having the confidence to try anything. A few semesters in, the thought of going back to my hometown scared me. 

My family has always been so supportive and encouraging of me; I am forever thankful I grew up in the environment I did. But I still had an underlying fear of being perceived by former classmates and new strangers. I avoided going home even though I was slowly becoming empty without my family. The weight and pressures of school, family, and new friendships started to discourage me from wanting to do much of anything. I started floating by and trying to appease everyone but myself. 

I realized my anxiety was slowly trying to take over again, and I desperately needed to do something about it. I started challenging my own thoughts. What's the worst that could happen? Is the worst even bad, or just scary? I started thinking back to how scared I was when I was younger. But then I thought back even earlier to the joyful girl in a tutu and rainbow suspenders. I decided to start living instead of surviving. Try everything. 

I was scared of going shopping or out to eat by myself. I was scared I’d be in people's way or be judged because I was alone. Then I did it. I put on an outfit I was happy and proud of and went. Nothing scary happened. Nothing bad happened. 

With every new thing I try, I gain a new perspective on it. You can talk to people all day and get opinions. But the only way you will fully know if you like or dislike that thing, place, or person is to try. Even if you fail or are uncomfortable, pushing through and achieving the knowledge is what allows you to grow. 

Comparison is the thief of joy. You don’t have to do that big goal in one day or try to achieve it in one day. Even 1% of progress is still closer to 100%. If your goal is to go to the gym 6 days a week, don’t try to go each day your first week. Aim for one day, maybe two. It is still a foot in the right direction. If you don’t know where to start, think small. Look for easy workouts that don’t require much strength. You don’t need a perfect gym routine to be the healthiest or fittest person alive. Everyone makes mistakes; that's how we grow and learn.

Failure and joy go hand in hand. Progress and trying go hand in hand. Don’t talk negatively to yourself if you fail one day or don’t make progress for a day or even a whole week. Showing up for yourself is all that matters. 

Overcoming the anxiety of being perfect takes time. It took me a whole year into college before I realized I wanted to pursue another path. I didn’t talk down to myself for wasting time and money. I congratulated myself for trying. With that trying came experience and lessons. The path ahead was more work and full of unknowns at the time, but I wasn’t anxious about doing it perfectly. I started to become excited about the unknowns. 

Your mindset controls more than you’ll ever know. That's why learning about yourself, mind, and body can help you become an excited and thriving version of yourself. Never strive to be the perfect version of yourself. You’ll never achieve true joy and growth from being perfect. So strive to be curious. Then you can truly start becoming a version of yourself that leads with kindness, knowledge, and confidence. 

I’m only twenty years into learning and growing, but I’m not perfect. And I never want to be ever again.