February 23, 2016

I’m Sorry I Won’t Ever be F*ckin’ Perfect.


Pixabay: https://pixabay.com/en/woman-back-looking-water-sea-1031020/

**Warning: many F-bombs ahead!


“I’m not perfect. I’m original.” ~ Unknown


I am tired of trying to be everything to everyone—the truth is that I won’t ever be fuckin’ perfect.

I was not placed here upon this delicious earth to bring smiles to those who are unable to feel the sunshine.

I am not here to make others feel better about their own poor or ideological choices by living down to their expectations of what women are capable of.

Nah, I was born to fuck the status quo.

I am here to turn the world upside in revolt to whatever faded and outdated expectations of women that some still feel the need to wrap up in order to feel more secure about their own mediocre lives.

The beautiful thing is that I know I am not alone in my rebel rousing ways.

Though I walk alone at times, I know that there are others dancing in the shadows, casting off their cloaks of perfection and walking naked in the moonlight to the beat of their own drum.

I know that there is a tribe of us out there who are silently chanting: “No, we won’t ever be fuckin’ perfect”—but we will always be real.

Because the truth is—there is so much more to life than being perfect.

And the reality is that I lost the desire long ago to just be “good enough.”

I walk with fire under my magnificent fuckin’ battered wings, and though my knees may be dirty and my hands scraped, I am alive and every day I wake up fighting for a dream that only I can see.

I don’t want to be patted atop my precious head and have my hand held through life—because I don’t need someone to tame the wild out of me.

I don’t need to be broken like a stallion inside a corral, at the hands of a man who can’t appreciate that its freedom alone that makes my eyes blaze.

Because I am part of a clan of women who have learned that the only thing we ever need to be is our beautiful unapologetically flawed selves.

We are the fierce fuckin’ women who have ripped the picket fences out of our yards, because the only thing they ever accomplished was keeping our dreams at bay.

We are the women who make choices that no one else agrees with—and that is precisely what tells us we are on the right path.

Because the honest truth is—perfect is fuckin’ boring.

I make mistakes every single day, yet I go to bed with no regrets.

I’m messy and complicated, yet deliciously simple for those who understand that wild can only be tasted and not felt.

I love hard and passionately, without rules or concern to a man’s precious ego.

I take arrows pricked with the love of my tears and aim them directly into his most tender and vulnerable corners, destroying any lingering walls he may have.

Boundaries become nothing more than lines drawn in the sand, washed away with the incoming tide.

I am truth incarnated, and I won’t ever back down from what I believe in.

Others can’t make sense of women like us—for we don’t follow the formula on how to be a wife, mother or woman in today’s world.

They shake their heads at us, because they just can’t understand our flavor of amazing.

And I am sorry that I won’t ever be fuckin’ perfect, but the thing is that is exactly the way I like it.

I’ll swear like a sailor, drink like an Irishmen and fuck like only a goddess can.

I’ll chase my dreams right off the edge of the world, until there is nothing left to do but spread my wings and fly.

Because women like us have learned that we are simply meant for more.

That does not make us foolish, but rather an inspiration to others, because we are those who are raising daughters that will change the world.

They won’t do it by sitting serenely in pink ruffled dresses, but rather,  by skipping along through mud puddles in worn black leather jackets, giving the finger at all those who tell them that they need to be “pretty” to be of value.

Because fuck being pretty—and fuck keeping our mouths shut when the only thing we want to do is shout and dance in the wonderment of being a woman who loves herself exactly as she is.

And though I may say, “I’m sorry”—the truth is I’m not.

I’m not sorry that I am too much woman, nor am I sorry if I get under a man’s skin in such a way that makes it impossible for him to truly forget me.

I’m not sorry that I break all the rules and cross boundaries that should never have been created in the first place.

I’m not even sorry that my kind of crazy is as intoxicating as shots of Patron Silver under a full moon.

Because the truth is—y’all can keep perfect.

I’ve found me—and I know that other women have too.

We are so comfortable within our own skin that we don’t need anyone else to accept what we already celebrate.

We have stayed up late making love to the bodies that can create life and woken early to wish upon the rising sun.

We aren’t afraid of our own shadows any longer, because we realize that it’s the darkness that we crave the most.

We are those who look in the mirror and love not only what is reflected back to us—but also what shines from within.

Because we are the women who will never be fuckin’ perfect—and that is just the way we prefer it.

And sorry—but I’ll never be truly sorry about that.


Author: Kate Rose

Editor: Yoli Ramazzina

Photo: Pixabay

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