Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

Each of us are a work in progress, so to expect any kind of perfection at the start is a bit unfair. 

As a writer, it is often awkward when others see a creative project of mine before it's finished, because they wouldn't see a refined and completed work that has undergone various stages of post-mortem edits, instead, they would only see it at whatever stage it is currently being modified. 

Likewise, I am at present being moulded and painted into my own life by my own hands, bit by bit. Though I may show potential, I am certainly not yet at a stage where anyone could reasonably expect 'showroom perfection' from me, least of all myself. The beauty of working on the human being that is me, is that even if in the moment it's not what I'd hope to come away with, I can touch it up, refine it further, or even remould over entire areas of myself that I'm not satisfied with. It isn't to say that what I've already become isn't still a great start; I know for a fact there is always more room for improvements. 

I have always been very hard on myself, always been very critical of every aspect of my life. I set the bar so high that if I fail to hit the mark, I would beat myself up to no end. Although I know it is good to push myself, but my obsession of being the best version of me in my own eyes had reached the point where it's not healthy. 

The good news is, I have since gone easier on myself. 

I have let go of unfair and unrealistic expectations that I put on myself, knowing that it is okay for me to make mistakes, as long as I am willing to take the time to touch up, refine, remould, or repaint over parts of myself that I know isn't true to me or others. I also realize that while it may seem like everyone around is a critic, it doesn't qualify them to make judgments on an unfinished work of art, no matter who they are. 

I know that over time I will grow in complexity, refinement and beauty, and that my true colours will emerge from the original plans and sketches into someone magnificently expressed, because ultimately, I am the moulder, the painter, and the writer of my own self in this life. 

I am a work in progress, I recognize that. I have stopped judging myself and every now and then, I do stop for a breather to step back and appreciate the masterpiece I am becoming. 

And from what I see, I am not too shabby after all.