One of my greatest conflicts with myself lies in prioritizing between two opposing evils, perfection and results. I’m a perfectionist. Always have been. And many a time, in that part of an interview when the interviewer sighs and asks what my weaknesses are, I answered just that. I did it as a cop-out, thinking I’d fool my interviewer into thinking that I have no weaknesses, as perfection, staged correctly, is a strength, until I began to realize just how much it influences my life.

“Striving for excellence motivates you; striving for perfection is demoralizing.”  ~Harriet Braiker

My quest for perfection must have started when I was six years old. I was chubby and my grandmother put me on a diet that entire summer, and every summer thereafter…until I turned fourteen. And she would have continued, but by that time, I was dieting on my own. Even as a really young child, I saw that I could be better, look better, and please the people around me, but above all, receive the feedback that drove me, feedback outside of myself. There was never an end to perfection.

Without an end to perfection, I struggled because I was never “ready”. Readiness was always so far away. Whether readiness be five pounds away, or after reading five books, which would turn into ten shortly thereafter, perfection was an excuse for procrastination. It is the king of analysis paralysis. Whenever I do work in the mindset of perfection, revision after revision, each only a speckle in the grand scheme of things, I procrastinate and miss the ball. Perfection is impossible.

Results, however, are the fruits of consistent action, as they are practically never achieved right away. Only consistent action and consistent failure allows results to manifest, and this can be applied to all areas of our lives. The quest for results does not dismiss details, but rather spares the unimportant and let’s us click the start button. In order to get anywhere, we must learn to start, to fail (as we usually will the first few tries at least), and to take what we learned from our mistakes and keep learning and changing our approach until we reach our goal.

I think of this in the context of an encounter that I had a few weeks ago with a woman in an elevator. As I asked her which floor she was on, I noticed that she was walking with a cain. My eyes must have wandered too long, as she then said something to me that really threw me off:

“You have to be careful. One day you will get old and you might fall. Better be careful today.”

I was slightly surprised and told her that I hoped she felt better. Again, she told me how careful I should be and proceeded to her apartment. I have been thinking about this ever since.

I considered being careful, watching my feet intently as I step forward and terribly fear mistakes. After all, the woman fell and hurt herself, never to be the same again. She was bitter about that fall and blamed herself for it. But this is the mindset of perfection.

The woman I met can be a metaphor for the way that many people live their lives. They either don’t take risk and fail by never trying, or take risk once or a few times before settling into the idea that they will never succeed. I wish the woman told me that the cain was just a minor setback in her quest to fulfill her dreams – but then she would be lying. Her fall was not just a distinction she used to get to the next step –  it defined her.

In one of his many personal development programs, Tony Robbins asked his audience how many times your average baby falls when it’s learning to walk, before it gives up. Few people think of themselves as that baby, slowing inching toward great things by failing and making distinctions, and ultimately getting exactly where they want to be. It doesn’t have to be perfect, and results can come over time.

I understand that the woman I saw that day was in pain, and that her pain was probably as internal as it was external. Nevertheless, her words do not resonate with what I want in my life. I want to wear my battle scars without any shame. They are as much a part of me as my thoughts, my emotions, and my desire for success. I want them to remind me that I have experienced both inspiration and the desperation, and that only I can control my destiny. I want what I do to be as perfect as possible, but I am determined to put results before perfection, in my work and in my life.

I have included a video of “F***in Perfect” by Pink, one of my favorite artists. Enjoy, make mistakes, learn, and succede. You don’t need to be perfect.

F***kin Perfect by Pink

Love,

US

The other day, on the way back from meeting with an old friend, I stopped by Madison Square Park before heading to a nearby coffee shop. It was warm outside – too warm for November, and this unexpected weather was delightful to most everyone in the neighborhood, who also had some time to spend outside.

I am not sure if I would have noticed this a week back, before I received some long awaited good news, but on this day I was determined to really take the time to look around. I smelled the air and watched the people. I sat on the bench and observed the leaves in their golden autumn glory.

I remember writing about the fall when I first started high school. I wrote about the end of the summer, as the leaves turned. It was really romantic. Back then, fall meant new beginnings, a new school year, and new things to look forward to.

I love the fall not only because of the festive holidays and its beautiful colors, but because the fall represents, for me, a necessary death before rebirth. Trees go through a cycle each year that I wish people went through as well. They grow new leaves every Spring and shed these leaves just in time for the Winter. The leaves go through various stages, each beautiful in its own way, only to wither and be lost forever, no matter how beautiful they once were.

When I think about why I wish humans operated like the trees, I think to one of my terrible habits. My nervousness, over time, has caused me to pick my face. I am completely ashamed of this addictive process that I both detest and take comfort in, and I can tell you that it caused me to have some scars. The scars, however, were never the result of one such picking. Had I picked only once or twice, and let go, there would never have been any scars at all. It was the consistency and commitment to this dirty habit that caused these scars in the first place, a physical metaphor for what happens within so many of us in our lives.

We get so caught up in our negativity, and our self pity, that our conversations with ourselves become consistent picking at scars that can never heal – scars inside that never needed to become scars at all. What’s even worse is that we allow them to take us over and dictate our lives.

I wish that people, like trees, would grow and learn throughout the year, and gain both confidence and experience. We can think of our leaves as any influence outside of ourselves, good and bad. But I also wish that we could take some time to shed everything but ourselves, and go back just us and our experience. That we relinquish ourselves of guilt, of anger, and of pain so that we can start new. I have made a commitment today never to pick at my face again and another to start life over each year, one leaf at a time.

Love,

US

Why is the Socialite UnSocial and not AntiSocial? I thought you’d never ask!

The Socialite is UnSocial for two reasons:

1. AntiSocialSocialite.com is already taken

2. UnSocial is in limbo. It’s not completely against socializing, but rather not quite there, not quite ready. It’s like the awkward teenager who just lost all her baby fat and is ready to take on life, except that she’s also rail thin, has frizzy hair, and is about 3 months from taking off her braces. Yes I made that analogy, and YES you remembered

So… what  I want to say is feel free to send some love!

Love,

US

In life we spend a lot of time waiting. Waiting for our paychecks, for our next apartment, for the elevator. We wait until next week for the dinner we have scheduled with friends, where we discuss how we can’t wait for the party, and at the party we wait for some picture action so we can put it up on Facebook.

I too have been waiting. I have waited a very, very long time to put up my first post. Each time I had a different excuse. But Alas – short and sweet but here it is. I am an Unsocial Socialite and proud. I hope to bring you more in fashion, beauty, fun, and ofcourse, silly unsocial/socialite experiences.

Thanks for your time,

US