It is because of imperfection that growth is possible.

I’ve been repeating these words to myself like a quiet prayer lately.

Not because I’ve mastered them. Not because I’ve arrived at some enlightened place where I’m perfectly okay with being imperfect.

But because I keep forgetting. And life keeps reminding me.

 

The Tender Admission

There’s something tender about admitting we don’t have it all together.

That we wobble.
That we bruise.
That we forget our own wisdom sometimes—the things we know intellectually but can’t seem to remember when we need them most.

It feels vulnerable. Exposed. Like taking off armor you didn’t realize you were wearing.

Yet every time life cracks me open a little, I notice something:

How much space is created inside.

Space for softness instead of hardness.
Space for honesty instead of performance.
Space for becoming instead of pretending I’ve already arrived.

 

What Perfection Actually Does

Perfection tries to keep us small.

It sounds like it should do the opposite—like striving for perfection should make us bigger, better, more.

But it doesn’t.

It tightens the breath. Makes everything feel high-stakes and precarious.

It closes the heart. Because if you let people see the real you—the uncertain, still-figuring-it-out you—what if they’re disappointed?

It whispers that we should hide the parts that don’t look tidy on the outside. The doubt. The mess. The places where we’re still learning.

Perfection is a cage we build ourselves and then forget we have the key to.

 

But Imperfection…

Imperfection is wild and generous.

She doesn’t ask you to have it together first.
She doesn’t require you to be ready or polished or impressive.

She pulls us deeper into ourselves.

Into our truth—the real kind, not the curated kind.

Into the places that ache and glow at the same time. The tender spots. The raw edges. The parts of us that are still healing and still hoping and still becoming.

She says: This is where the real work happens. Right here, in the mess.

 

The Moments That Actually Changed Everything

When I look back at my life—really look back with honest eyes—

The moments where I “failed,” stumbled, or admitted “I don’t know” weren’t the disasters I thought they were in real time.

They were the exact moments life shifted direction.

The relationship that ended opened the door to the one that fits.
The job I lost led me to the work I was meant to do.
The breakdown became the breakthrough.

They didn’t break me. They shaped me.

They carved the path I’m walking now—the one I couldn’t have found if everything had gone according to plan.

Because the plan was too small. Too safe. Too contained.

The cracks let the light in. And out.

 

Here’s To Our Unfinished Edges

So here’s to our unfinished edges.

To our messy attempts that don’t look like the polished versions we see online.

To the sacred courage of showing up anyway.

Showing up when we’re not sure.
Showing up when we’ve made mistakes.
Showing up when we’re still learning, still wobbling, still very much in process.

Because that’s what bravery actually looks like.

Not the absence of imperfection.
But the willingness to be imperfect and show up anyway.

 

The Truth We Keep Forgetting

We don’t grow in spite of imperfection.

We grow because of it.

The stumble teaches us balance.
The mistake teaches us humility.
The crack teaches us resilience.
The not-knowing teaches us curiosity.

Every imperfection is an invitation:

Will you let this break you, or will you let it break you open?

Will you hide this, or will you let it become part of your story?

Will you see this as failure, or as the fertile ground where something new can grow?

 

The Prayer I Keep Coming Back To

So I keep repeating it. This quiet prayer:

It is because of imperfection that growth is possible.

Not despite the wobbles—because of them.
Not in spite of the mess—through it.
Not when we finally get it all together—exactly as we are, right now, unfinished and trying.

This is the path.
This is the practice.
This is what it means to be beautifully, courageously human.

If you’re tired of trying to be perfect and ready to embrace what’s real, I’m here. I’m sharing the practices that taught me how to show up imperfectly and still feel whole—how to stop hiding and start growing.

👉 Start here and discover what becomes possible when you finally give yourself permission to be exactly where you are, cracks and all.