

Perfection by definition is the condition, state or quality of being free from all flaws or defects. And by example, perfection takes different forms. The perfect body. The perfect career. The perfect man/woman. The perfect life.
I can say that for the last few years of my life, I have been on a quest to make myself, my life, and my surroundings---well, perfect.
As a recovering perfectionist, I was once bogged down in every single detail. But now I am learning to accept some things for what they are; right now, in this moment. It has not been easy to overcome my addiction, but one of the major components to my healing has been taking a hard look at all of the things I blocked by insisting that it line up with some ideal picture I carried around in my head and heart.
When I started this inventory, I was surprised at how critical I'd been of everything and everyone in my life but perhaps the most heartbreaking was the way in which I'd lost my faith in the race to come out on top.
Now, I am no one's first lady, deaconess or minister but I once had a relationship with God that I was very proud of.
My faith was unwavering, and my life had a general ease to it that I contributed to my walk with Christ. Prayer was second nature to me and I was generally happy to share God with others. And then, I hit the age of 25. The age that I thought I'd have it all together by. But I looked around and felt helpless. I felt that I had nothing to show for my walk with God and though I believed that he was the vessel for all of my blessings, I saw people who seemed to not know him at all---living the life I dreamed of leading.
I was frustrated, fed up, and disappointed. And thus, started my spiral.
I wanted to hide myself---my not being a finished product could not possibly be attractive to either lovers or friends. I isolated myself and insisted that it was better that I not bring anyone else down to my level. Never mind that I'd run a successful magazine, created work that I was proud of, traveled to some of the places I'd always wanted to see---I wasn't where I thought I should be. So how could I be proud of me? How could I tell someone about God and have them look at my (what I thought was) shipwreck of a life?
And what's more: how could I believe in a God who saw my hard work, passion, and desires, but blatantly ignored them?
Imagine that. Foolishly, I felt like the being that stretched the stars across the sky needed to prove itself to me.
Then I began to attack myself.
Maybe it was me. Maybe I wasn't a good enough woman/friend/daughter/Christian for God to answer my prayers. How could I fix that? And hell, why was God being so hard on me while letting everyone else be imperfect and still get ahead? Why was my life so much harder just because I was flawed and had made mistakes? GOD WAS NOT PLAYING FAIR. But in my usual perfectionist way, I figured I'd fix it.
I would do everything right and force God's hand. 1+1=2 after all, right? If I am crossing every t and dotting every i, then God has to give me what I want. And if he doesn't, then that means I can do more. I can work harder. Pray harder. Volunteer more. Workout more. Eat better. Not have a social life. Prove to Him that I was worthy of his love, blessings, and honor. I'd even pretend to be happy while doing it all because that was the only way God would be pleased with me enough to grant me the desires of my heart. Then, and only then, could I trust God the way I once had.
Because I felt I had to be perfect for anyone, let alone God, to love me---I also felt my life needed to be perfect in order for me to love God.
I was cutting myself off from the very essence of God's ultimate strength: to love me in my imperfections.
To see in me the things that I hate as the most beautiful parts of me---the places in which His love could shine brightest. When I stopped thinking that I had to come to Him, and anyone else, as a finished product---I realized that I was already complete. Not perfect, but indeed, complete. Still growing, still learning and even sometimes still wanting more out of life---but still complete and completely surrounded by God's grace.
Once I realized that me and God were one---working in tandem, not in opposition---I could hold myself accountable in helpful ways and do away with things that reduced me to "not good enough" at the hands of my own criticisms. I could go after self-improvement for the sake of personal growth that was not dependent on God giving me what I want but what He knows I need at every junction.
I learned to rejoice in small beginnings and trust my journey as mine and mine alone. And most importantly, when I threw off my ego and emotions, I was able to get really honest about whether or not I was actually ready for a lot of the things I'd been praying for.
I was not. But, sometimes God protects us with small no's so that we don't make a mess of the big yes's that are coming our way. So, I let go. And you know what?
My life glowed up.
Things I hadn't thought to ask for blessed me in ways I couldn't have imagined. I was happy again; however, not due to any circumstances changing significantly, but from a joy unshakeable. You know that old folks saying: the world didn't give, and the world can't take it away?
Well, in this case, the world wasn't my biggest enemy, I was. I believed all the lies my anxiety and fears told me about God's limited ability to love me, you, him, her, them…without us being completely flawless. I almost let my quest for perfection, which is really just another mask our ego tells us to wear, keep me away from the most important relationship I will ever have.
Almost.
xoNecole is always looking for new voices and empowering stories to add to our platform. If you have an interesting story or personal essay that you'd love to share, we'd love to hear from you. Contact us at submissons@xonecole.com
Adrian Marcel On Purpose, Sacrifice, And The 'Signs Of Life'
In this week's episode of xoMAN, host Kiara Walker talked with R&B artist Adrian Marcel, who opened up, full of heart and authenticity, about his personal evolution. He discussed his days transitioning from a young Bay Area singer on the come-up to becoming a grounded husband and father of four.
With honesty and introspection, Marcel reflected on how life, love, and loss have shaped the man he is today.
On ‘Life’s Subtle Signals’
Much of the conversation centered around purpose, sacrifice, and listening to life’s subtle signals. “I think that you really have to pay attention to the signs of life,” Marcel said. “Because as much as we need to make money, we are not necessarily on this Earth for that sole purpose, you know what I mean?” While he acknowledged his ambitions, adding, “that is not me saying at all I’m not trying to ball out,” he emphasized that fulfillment goes deeper.
“We are here to be happy. We are here [to] fulfill a purpose that we are put on here for.”
On Passion vs. Survival
Adrian spoke candidly about the tension between passion and survival, describing how hardship can sometimes point us away from misaligned paths. “If you find it’s constantly hurting you… that’s telling you something. That’s telling you that you’re going outside of your purpose.”
Marcel’s path hasn’t been without detours. A promising athlete in his youth, he recalled, “Early on in my career, I was still doing sports… I was good… I had a scholarship.” An injury changed everything. “My femur broke. Hence why I always say, you know, I’m gonna keep you hip like a femur.” After the injury, he pivoted to explore other careers, including teaching and corporate jobs.
“It just did not get me—even with any success that happened in anything—those times, back then, I was so unhappy. And you know, to a different degree. Like not just like, ‘I really want to be a singer so that’s why I’m unhappy.’ Nah, it was like, it was not fulfilling me in any form or fashion.”
On Connection Between Pursuing Music & Fatherhood
He recalled performing old-school songs at age 12 to impress girls, then his father challenged him: “You can lie to these girls all you want, but you're really just lying to yourself. You ain't growing.” That push led him to the piano—and eventually, to his truth. “Music is my love,” Marcel affirmed. “I wouldn’t be a happy husband if I was here trying to do anything else just to appease her [his wife].”
Want more real talk from xoMAN? Catch the full audio episodes every Tuesday on Spotify and Apple Podcasts, and don’t miss the full video drops every Wednesday on YouTube. Hit follow, subscribe, and stay tapped in.
Featured image by xoNecole/YouTube
You Don’t Have To Choose: How Black Women Can Care For Others Without Self-Sacrifice
One of the primary instructions we receive before a flight takes off is to prioritize putting on your life vest first if there’s an emergency, even before assisting others. It’s funny how this rule rarely translates to the daily routine of women.
As women we are taught, directly and indirectly, to put others first. Whether it’s our romantic partners, kids, parents, friends, or even our jobs. Mental health survivor and founder of Sista Afya Community Care, Camesha Jones-Brandon is challenging that narrative by using her platform to advocate for Black women and their right to self-care.
Camesha created the organization after her struggles with mental health and the lack of community she experienced. The Chicago native explains how she created Sista Afya to be rooted in “culturally grounded care.”
pixelheadphoto digitalskillet/ Shutterstock
“So at my organization, Sista Afya Community Care, we focus on providing mental health care through a cultural and gender lens,” she tells xoNecole. “So when we think about the term intersectionality, coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw, we think about the multiple identities that lead to certain experiences and outcomes as it relates to Black women.
“So in the context of culturally grounded care, being aware of the cultural history, the cultural values, and then also the current issues that impact mental health outcomes.”
Words like “strong” and “independent” have long been associated with Black women for some time and many of us have begun to embrace the soft life and are using rest as a form of resistance. However, some of us still struggle with putting ourselves first and overall shedding the tainted image of the “strong, Black woman” that had been forced on us.
Camesha shares that while there’s more and more communities being created around empowerment and shared interests like running, she still questions, “are Black women really comfortable with being vulnerable about sharing their experiences?”
Being vulnerable with ourselves and others play an important role in healing the instinctive nature of always being “on” for everyone. “I'm currently facilitating a group on high functioning depression, and yesterday, we talked about how when Black women may be struggling or have shared their concerns with other people. They may be minimized, or they're told to just be strong, or it's not so bad, or I went through something worse back in Jim Crow era, so you should be thankful,” she explains.
“So I think there's a challenge with Black women being able to be honest, to be vulnerable and to receive the support that they need in the same capacity as how much they give support to other people. So that is probably a very common theme. I think we've made a lot of progress when we talk about the superwoman syndrome, the mammy stereotype, the working hard stereotype, the nurturing stereotype. I think we're beginning to unpack those things, but I still see that we have definitely a long way to go in that area.”
I think there's a challenge with Black women being able to be honest, to be vulnerable and to receive the support that they need in the same capacity as how much they give support to other people.
Roman Samborskyi/ Shutterstock
While we’re unpacking those things, we know that we’re still women at the end of the day. So as we continue to serve in various roles like mothers, daughters, sisters, and caretakers, we have to make caring for ourselves a priority. Camesha reveals four ways we can still care for others without abandoning ourselves.
Trust
First things first, trust. Camesha explains, “Some of the burdens that Black women have can be linked to not feeling like you can trust people to carry the load with you.
“It's hard because people experience trauma or being let down or different experiences, but one of the things that I found personally is the more that I'm able to practice trust, the more I'm able to get my needs met. Then, to also show up as my best to care for other Black women.”
Know Your Limitations
Another thing Camesha highlighted is Black women knowing their limitations. “The other thing that I would like to bring up in terms of a way to care for yourself is to really know your limitations, or know how much you can give and what you need to receive,” she says.
“So often, what I see with Black women is giving, giving, giving, giving, giving to the point that you're not feeling well, and then not receiving what you need in return to be able to feel well and whole individually. So I really think it's important to know your limitations and know your capacity and to identify what it is that you need to be well.”
Don’t Take On A Lot Of Responsibilities
Next on the list is not taking on so many responsibilities, sharing herself as an example. “The other thing is taking on too much responsibility, especially in a time of vulnerability.
“One thing that I personally struggled with was being so passionate about community mental health for Black women, and saying yes to everything and taking on so much responsibility,” she reveals. “That affected me to do well in serving Black women and then also impacting my own well being.”
Practice Self-Care
Lastly, she notes the importance of practicing self-care. “The last thing is really practicing regular self care, regular community care, so that it's embedded into your daily life. So for me, having prepared meals, going to the gym, getting eight hours of sleep, spending time with friends and family, all of those things are part of my self care that keep me at my best,” she explains.
“Then community care, leaning into social networks or social groups, or spending time with other interests or hobbies. That's a part of my community care that keeps me going, so that I can take care of my needs, but also to be able to show up best in care for others.”
Find out more about Camesha and Sista Afya Community Care at communitycare.sistaafya.com.
Let’s make things inbox official! Sign up for the xoNecole newsletter for love, wellness, career, and exclusive content delivered straight to your inbox.
Feature image by AS Photo Family/ Shutterstock