The Heart Principle

by Helen Hoang

I don’t question why people do things. I just observe and copy. That’s how to get along in this world.

For that’s the only place where true perfection exists—the blank page. Nothing I actually do can compete with the boundless potential of what I could do. But if I allow the fear of imperfection to trap me in perpetual beginnings, I’ll never create anything again.

No one should need a diagnosis in order to be compassionate to themself. But I did. Tough love doesn’t allow room for weakness, and tough love is all I’ve known. Maybe for now, just this once, I can experiment with a different kind of love. Something kinder.

Maybe my family would still think I’m the person I’d been pretending to be for so long—not perfect in their eyes, but still good enough.