Fess Up Your Mess Ups

by Rose Anderson, a Junior at Boston College

I have this little roommate and she's majoring in Being Good At Life. Her "littleness" is ironic because she's only small in stature, but not ability. Being Good At Life is her second major, really, that she added on top of being a pre-med (because what job could she ever get with that degree?). So far, though, it seems like an excellent choice for her—she fulfills the major requirements effortlessly. Always looking presentable in the dining hall? Two thumbs (manicured, I assure you) up. Juggling a research position and overloading classes? Well, of course. Working a part-time job and maintaining a 3.999 GPA and having a million friends and two million love interests and always finding the time to call home? Duh (but your skepticism is funny). She spends her days studying at the library and her summers helping small, impoverished children in India. If you compliment her, she'll humbly brush it off and if you insult her, she'll probably end up buying you flowers. Also, and I find this truly amazing, her room is always so freaking clean.

Yes, my little roommate is very Good At Life. Anyone that knows her can confirm this—her ability to seemingly take on everything without a hair out of place, models her at a near state of perfection. I admire her deeply for it. And yet, my favorite side of her isn't this untouchable, practically-a-goddess version that most people see. Rather, I love my little roommate the most for all the times she doesn't actually seem so...perfect. The times that she admits she did something wrong, or embarrassing, or even got a B on a test, damnit, are the moments that I feel like I know her best.

I really do credit my little roommate for always acting like she has it all together, but I sometimes want to tell her that she doesn't have to be this way. In fact, she isn't supposed to be this way. Trying to act perfect all the time is exhausting. Isn't this one of the reasons we are so tired all of the time? We think we cannot rest, because there's always more to be done and always more to improve. There's always a way we can fix ourselves to look, act, and be better. We spend so much time trying to cover up our inner-mess for all kinds of reasons; because we think we can't be successful with outward flaws, or because we are too vain, or too self conscious, or too afraid to appear anything less than perfect, or even because we think people won't love us as much if we reveal this part of ourselves. The list is long and laborious, it's personal to each of us. Just pick your poison! But the underlying theme is this: we are too scared to be messy.

But isn't it exhausting to always have to seem perfect? We are all so focused on being better—on improving our social lives, our appearances, our GPA—that we often lose sight as to who we are. It is not possible to be us when we are constantly trying to be an even better version of us. It's as if we assume that these "better" versions of ourselves are the only versions people will love. So we hide all of our imperfections in attempts to present this hair-brushed, head-high, camera ready side of ourselves.

But guess what--no one will love you less if you share what you're struggling with. Have you ever thought less of a friend for telling you about her anxiety? Or depression? Or her family trouble at home? In fact, I often find that I end up loving this person more. Because by admitting her faults, I feel as though as I can admit mine too. And in doing so, I no longer harbor the guilt and shame that I've constantly tried to suppress—rather, I let myself accept the part of me I've been trying to hide.

Not that I'm saying the next time the Starbucks barista asks how you are you should start going off about how many parking tickets you've gotten this month and how Boston police need to ~chill~ (not that this oddly specific scenario reflects my life whatsoever,) I do think it's important to realize it's okay not to answer "good-and-you?" every time. Honest answers reflect who we are and shouldn't we want to be known for this version of ourselves?

In the end, two things have been accomplished by sharing your imperfections. Number one, you are able to finally release the stress that was built up inside of you as a result of keeping your flaws a secret. Secondly, and most importantly, you have granted others permission to admit their faults too.

So really the irony is this: we're doing everyone a favor, people, by being flawed. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's our civic duty to be flawed. We are humans--we were not created to be perfect. We were created to be jealous, to fear, to fall in love, and to fall up the stairs (that just me?). We're just doing our jobs as humans, really, by being messy. And the best part: if you fess up your mess ups, all your favorite people in your life will feel like they are able to too.

Rose Anderson is a junior English/Communications major with a minor in studio art at Boston College. She is a native Minnesotan and enjoys her East Coast friends' confused looks when she orders a "pop" instead of a "soda." Her interests include Italian food, gel pens, and the color periwinkle blue. The things she considers as most important to her are her best friends, her siblings, and the time in 7th grade that she won a trip to LA to meet Justin Bieber. 

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