23

Yesterday, my roommates and best friends gave me a wonderful opportunity for reflection on my birthday this year. They asked me what my favorite part of my twenty-second year of life was, as well as what I am looking forward to for my twenty-third.

Truthfully, I don’t think about my age all that much. But when given the opportunity to reflect on the past year, I realized just how much I’ve struggled in my twenties thus far, but also how much I have overcome.

My answer was simply put as “my favorite part of 22 was coming home.” I remember a time not that long ago where healing was my number one priority. I lived alone and was scared to come home to be by myself everyday. Reflecting on today, in my twenty-second year of life, my home is now a place that feels so safe to return to. This is one of the first times in my life, if not the first, I can confidently say I’m happy when I go home.

I feel like 22 was kind of set-up for me. I knew I’d be in Austin at least one more year through the end of undergrad, so my priority was to enjoy life outside of that. I am fortunate to have a job that I love, to live alongside the most special and supportive people, and to invest time into relationships that feed my truest self.

23 scares me. The next year will be filled with loads of question marks and endless opportunity. I don’t know where I will be come December 11, 2024, but as long as I stay true to the life I have found in 22, I know I will be okay.

It’s easy to forget about all the hard things we do. Struggling with my perfectionism continues to be a daily battle for me, but we aren’t meant to be perfect. We are meant to be real. And real life throws some major shit our ways. In my workout class today, the instructor reminded us that challenges are opportunities. Returning to the question asked by my friends, I am looking forward to the unknown opportunities that 23 will present me. I don’t need to be perfect this year, I just need to be real.

(i’m)perfect portia

an intro.

Brilliant Brooke. Magnificent Michael. Amazing Amanda. Polite Portia. Pretty Portia. Piggy Portia. Perfect Portia… Damn.

Perfect Portia?

It was around the age of 9 where I started understanding that I’m not only perceiving the world, but the world was perceiving me. How did I want to be seen, to be known? The Name Game growing up was the first opportunity in classroom to share a word that describes you. I adopted the path of arguably most resistance, and chose Perfect Portia. To me, I took it as a label that I had to prove, otherwise I could be considered a liar, and that would be bad. It was around the age of 9, I started viewing myself as good or bad.

Perfectionism serves as a protection mechanism, a way of viewing the world through fear. I would avoid any opportunity to be judged as bad, before I could judge myself. Unknowingly, this logic guided me through the majority of my life. It kept me in cycles of self doubt, diminished my inner knowing and placed me in a state of war with myself. This self-war manifested as anxiety and depression, along with other health issues, a feat I have been battling for as long as I can remember. It took me a long time to understand that my experience with anxiety and depression was something I can control, rather be controlled by.

I heard once that “the imperfect parts of us are the healing parts of us.” Anytime little Portia shut down that innate desire to try something new due to fear of imperfection, I lost a part of myself. Embracing any deemed “imperfections” invites an opportunity to tell that fearful girl that she is safe. I still challenge my perfectionist tendencies every day, however, through resources, connections, experiences, and more, I have been able to find purpose behind the imperfections. Life isn’t getting easier, but it can be more manageable, with adopting the right practices, mindsets and beliefs.

My purpose with this platform is to share some of the resources that have helped me in my journey, along with anecdotes of my own experiences. I hope this can invite conversations with yourself, within your relationships, and with the world. With good intention, strong intuition and a bit of imperfection, I believe we can move mountains.

Besides, Imperfect Portia has a better ring to it anyhow.

thank you for being here.