Perfection is Overrated
2010
Unless! By stupidity what we really mean is gumption. or moxie. or grin-inducing-fun. Well, then you’re speaking my language (I’m fluent in grin-inducing-fun, just FYI). Those marketing geniuses over at have done it again:
Edited to add: I knew when I posted these ads that the response would be varied, but I was interested in hearing what you ladies had to say. I think these ads appeal to me because I’ve never felt pressured to hide my intelligence under the proverbial bushel, nor have I ever felt ostracized for being bright. I have, however, had my own personal struggles to embrace the more impetuous, less cerebral aspects of life (I’m a German/Virgo/eldest child. It’s like a perfect storm of anal retentiveness and over productivity)
And I think that’s why these ads appeal to me. The use of the word ’stupid’ is certainly not lost on me, but for me personally, it’s much more effective than a poster of a kitty meowing at me to «Live A Little!»
What are your thoughts on this new connotation of stupid?
Cherish your solitude
Take trains by yourself to places you have never been
Sleep out alone under the stars
Go so far away that you stop being afraid of not coming back
Say no when you don’t want to do something
Say yes if your instincts are strong, even if everyone around you disagrees
Decide whether you want to be liked or admired
Decide if fitting in is more important than finding out what you’re doing here
(P.S. I’m totally working on Ms. Ensler’s publishers to put together a giveaway of this book. How awesome would that be?!)
Well, Superwoman Ensler has an amazing new book – I Am An Emotional Creature: The Secret Life of Girls Around the World. Obviously, it’s amazing. I happened upon this excerpt in the most recent issue of and nearly started weeping right there on the stairclimber at the Y. I will be rushing out to buy my very own copy after work today. You, too?
Dear Emotional Creature:
I believe in you. I believe in your authenticity, your uniqueness, your intensity, your wildness. I love the way you dye your hair purple, or hike up your short skirt, or blare your music while you lip-synch every single memorized lyric. I love your restlessness and your hunger. You possess the energy that, if unleashed, could transform, inspire and heal the world.
Everyone seems to have a certain way they want you to be – your mother, father, teachers, religious leaders, politicians, boyfriends, fashion gurus, celebrities, girlfriends. In reporting my new book, I learned a very disturbing statistic: 74 percent of young women say they are under pleasure to please everyone.
I have done a lot of thinking about what it means to please: to be the wish or will of somebody other than yourself. To please the fashion setters, we starve ourselves. To please men, we push ourselves when we aren’t ready. To please our parents, we become insane overachievers. If you are trying to please, how do you take responsibility for your own needs? How do you even know what your own needs are? The act of pleasing makes everything murky. We lose track of ourselves. We stop uttering declaratory sentences. We stop directing our lives. We forget what we know. We make everything OK rather than real.
I have had the good fortune to travel around the world. Everywhere I meet teenage girls and women giggling, laughing as they walk country roads or hang out on city streets. Electric girls. I see how their lives get hijacked, how their opinions and desires get denied and undone. So many of the women I have met are still struggling late into their lives to know their desires, to find their way.
Instead of trying to please, this is a challenge to provoke, to satisfy your own imagination and appetite. To take responsibility for who you are, to engage. Listen to the voice inside you that might want something different. It’s a call to your original self, to move at your own speed, to walk with your step, to wear your color.
When I was your age, I didn’t know how to live as an emotional creature. I felt like an alien. I still do a lot of the time. I am older now. I finally know the difference between pleasing and loving, obeying and respecting. It has taken me so many years to be OK with being different, with being this alive, this intense. I just don’t want you to have to wait that long.
Love,
Eve Ensler