I'm Sorry
I hate being human, and I didn't realize it until very recently.
For years, my own flaws quite literally drove me crazy... My level of self-loathing every time I perceived myself making a minor mistake was sky-high. This didn't have to be something morally wrong, either-- it could be an awkward conversation or forgetting about something important. I still hate the fact that I take naps, that I get dark hairs along my jawline, that I make jokes that aren't funny, that I uses phrases like "the fact that" in my writing-- didn't I learn better from Strunk and White?
But it's the moral flaws that really get me. There's a part of me that doesn't believe it's okay to love someone who is morally imperfect-- and that tends to turn everything into a moral issue. So when I love someone, I instinctively blind myself to all their flaws. I have near-infinite grace to offer others, but none at all for myself. Because I cannot blind myself to my own flaws, they are staring at me in the mirror every day. So often, I content myself with hiding them from others, imagining that if they don't know about my imperfections, it will make them less real. I don't think my inner lawmaker will be content until my soft, changeable, scarred flesh is transformed into the bare, hard, frozen perfection of a Greek goddess' marble statue.
There's a deeper fear that lies behind these impossible standards, I believe. What if others judge me as harshly as I judge myself? Again, my soul secretly clings to the idea that flawed means unlovable. Since no one could love my true self, I must show them someone they can. And any time my flaws show through, it is a major crisis, akin to an impending inferno. I desperately try to quench the flames of expected rejection, hurling profuse apologies at them, though I know "sorry" is an empty word that does nothing to remove my guilt. There was a time when I worried I was too messed-up for even God to love me. It took a lot of maturing for me to recognize how arrogant that idea was-- I, a mere mortal, thought myself a great enough sinner to stop the unstoppable, perfect love of the Lord?
I'm trying to move on and heal from this mindset. To be human is to be fallen, and I'm trying to accept that reality and not let it prevent me from living my life, or torture myself for not achieving the impossible. I'm trying to learn that pretending I'm morally better than I am doesn't actually make me any better. Most of all, I'm trying to grow in my understanding and acceptance of the awe-inspiring love of God that is utterly unearned, undeserved, unfailing, and unfading.
