My whole life it’s been one thing after another. Getting perfect grades in school, getting into the perfect college, landing the perfect job, staying the perfect weight, wearing the perfect things, being the perfect daughter, the perfect girlfriend, speaking perfectly. I never stop trying, working to be perfect.

Today I did something new. I went to a coffee shop I’ve been dying to try ever since I moved here, but never did because my mother drilled into me that people like _us_ didn’t drink coffee. For once, I threw what she said into the wind and got a frappuccino with double whip and 3 fresh, hot, _sugary_ scones. Then I went to a church I’d overheard my coworkers talking about. There I met a man who made me happy. He gave me joy, showed me love, and shared His peace. With Him I knew immediately I didn’t have to put up walls or be perfect. I felt like I could be worth something for the person I was made to be, not just the things I did and that I was valued. He makes me feel complete.

I’ve strived my whole life to be perfect. But now I realize that no one can really truly be perfect. Today I decided I want to be complete, not perfect. Today I met Jesus.