The Heart of a Virgo: Perfection (One)

Perfection.

Regardless of how it’s worded, it seems everyone’s favorite way to describe a Virgo is the fact that we are perfectionists. Being neat freaks and control freaks are the far two and three.

I was born into a beautiful family. I was fortunate to be raised by parents who instilled great values in me. My siblings and I were sent to the best schools. We were provided more than what we needed, sometimes what we asked for. But my fortune ends there.

I wasn’t born into money.

My father was an employee, my mother a housewife who liked to spend money she doesn’t earn- a big shopper but one that I love, nonetheless. Before I finished high school, my family went through the roughest time financially but my parents pulled through and I got to graduate.

“When you stop striving for perfection, you might as well be dead.”

In second grade, I found out that my parents adopted me from their daughter who got pregnant a few months before she graduated from college. My biological father left and didn’t show up ‘til I was 16.

My real mother, who I still see as my older sister to this day, was forced to step up and send me to college-one of the best universities in the country. My family won’t settle for anything less and I knew I couldn’t fuck around but I also knew I needed my youth. I would allow myself the occasional screw-ups but I taught myself to get my shit together right after.

I flunk Economics in freshman year. The class would start promptly at 7am three days a week. I wake up at 6:30 am and would take at least an hour to get ready. I had to retake the course over the summer for failure due to absence. I finished top of class.

“Pared down to its barest essence, Wabi Sabi is the Japanese art of imperfection and profundity in nature, of accepting the natural cycle of growth, decay and death. It’s simple, slow and uncluttered- and it reveres authenticity above all.”

I went to an exclusive school for girls in grade school and another all-girls school in high school. Before college, I begged my mom to send me to a co-ed university so I can learn to act around boys. I had a girlfriend of four years then. We broke up during our first year in college- I left her for another girl. I also dated two boys before I graduated. But that was that.

In high school, I would party without a valid ID. My friends and I would pull strings to get into clubs. More than twice, I passed out from drinking way more than I should. One thing I got right, though, was that I never did drugs.

I was never fond of school. I’ve always thought that there was more to learning than sticking your nose in books, raising your hand in class all the time and kissing your teacher’s ass for an A. Outside of school, however, I would devour books–from fiction to self-help.

“Virgos are actually hardest of all on themselves, in the quest for perfection.” –The Dark Side of Virgo

My mother has always dreamed for me to become a journalist. I studied communications in college before I told her I wanted to do something else and that it was sort of meeting her halfway. I went into advertising. Four years later, I couldn’t stand lying to or fooling people.

I’ve always been so insecure of my body. My thighs. My nose. My arms. My eyes, a little bit, because they get too small when I smile too much. What do I do to make these look as good as the girls in magazines or on TV?

Size 0. But willing to settle for a 2. Whatever it takes.

I moved out of my parents’ house at 21, but I wasn’t fully independent. 7 years later, I was running my own household together with an amazing woman- my life partner, Nat.

After I’ve received my very first salary, a couple of months after graduating from college, my parents completely cut off my allowance. Not a peso from them since. Money makes me uncomfortable which is why I never dared to ask them even during my toughest times. I’ve learned to value every bit that I earn but then, I’ve also taught myself to enjoy it. And I enjoy it pretty well.

Ugh. Being an adult, though. Not the most exciting. Most days my household operating skills fall apart. With my wellness, a career, a household, relationships and some smaller stones to juggle. I have no clue how to hold it together but I do it, every day. No matter how sloppy it feels to me.

And this quest for perfection– where does it lead us? Will it ever end?

 Are we built for the brutal battles we have to face against ourselves or are we just as fragile as porcelain? At the end of each day, each of us, no matter how strong, gains a crack. And we overthink. We overthink. We overthink.

I’ve made it a goal to move out before I was 30. That I did, 2 years before the deadline I set for myself. Perfect.