The Story

Once upon a time, there was a little girl, terrified of growing up and the expectations, responsibilities and challenges that it came with. She was young, thoughtful, compassionate. She was a dancer, who felt most like herself in a studio. Ballet, Hip Hop, Modern anything the music threw at her she poured her soul into. She got straight A's, hoping to impress Daddy. Hoping tonight wouldn't be the night he got angry. Or better yet, How angry he would get. Nothing was ever good enough. Never perfect enough. Never in just the right place. Done in the right order. The kitchen must be cleaned before and after every meal. You must pick up ever leaf individually in the yard every morning and evening before Daddy got home. You had to make your bed the second you got out of it, corners folded at a perfect 90 degree angle. Bottls of Windex were bought in bulk, because God forbid they would run out in the middle of the night. Your bedroom must be vacuumed every afternoon. Dinner must be on the table at 6:15. You must wait for Daddy to check that all of your chores are done, that the yard is clean. You must wait with dinner on the table as he re-cleans the kitchen, because it is never clean enough. Finally he sits down to a cold dinner; he complains. Dinner must be reheated, and while he waits he aks exactly how everything was cooked, silently counting his calories. After dinner he would watch hockey and fall asleep on the couch. '

"I'm great Dad, thanks for asking"

She learned at the age of 4, when Daddy cornered her in the kitchen, spitting in her face slamming draws open and closed, threatening to break her fingers if she didn't start using them properly, what the consequences were for not making her bed in the morning. She learned at the age of 8, when Daddy chased her up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door open as she threw her body weight into keeping it closed, what the consequences were for not eating her Easter jellybeans in colour coordination. She broke her nose when it slammed into the wall from the force of the door. It always seemed like he was 'trying'. He could always account for his mistakes, he always knew he was wrong, but someone she was always the one who was wrong. Mom didn't know what to do, so let it go for years. 16 to be exact. Mommy knew deep down this was not what Love was. She left him.
"I promise babe, I don't love him. This isn't love"
"He'll never put you or your sister through any of this ever again"
"Quick- go distract Daddy while Mommy photocopies these documents for her lawyer"
13 days later they were all living under the exact same roof again.
A year later, she left him for good.

So this little girl put on a brave face and dove out into the big wide world thinking she had seen the worst the world could give her. She kept her eyes wide open and her heart hopeful.

It ate her alive.

So she thought to herself, "What am I doing wrong? How do I change this?" And all at once she realised, by changing herself the world around her that she lived in could become a different place. 

She began to walk through this world observing everything around her. She became a human scientist. Making observations, drawing conclusions, and hypothesizing her next move.

She noticed how the pretty thin girls over all seemed much more happy than the rest of the world. She noticed how people are willing to bend over backwards, make exceptions, and generally do almost anything to keep them that way. These people sparked a curiosity inside her. 

"I wonder how they do it..."

Her next project: Discover how to be perfect. Perfection. The idea that there is nothing wrong with a certain entity. That's what she wanted to learn.

She is still learning.

These are her lessons.