How perfection threatens everything you love.

Have you ever not started something because you were afraid you would fail? Declared something too hard before you made an attempt?

Thought to yourself, “this date would be perfect if…”

Driven your friends crazy trying to find the best seat, the most balanced meal, the ultimate sound-track? Spent so much time trying to get it right that you forgot to enjoy yourself?

Have you ever gotten so lost wondering what other people will think that you’ve sacrificed part of yourself?

Have you ever written off minimalism because you don’t want to live in a tiny house—or because you have a huge collection of books—despite knowing deep inside some aspects would bring you peace?

I bet you know someone who has said “I could never be vegan because I love cheese.” Maybe you’ve even said it yourself.

See the thing is, us humans get these pictures stuck in our head of what the perfect woman, or the perfect Christian, or the perfect vegan entails, and we cower. We know we can’t go from where we are today to that tomorrow. So we don’t try. We don’t start.

This is something I see a lot in my industry. Most writers never break even (self-pub) or earn out their advance (traditional.) The vast majority of self-proclaimed writers never put out more than three books in their lifetimes. They don’t “give up their day jobs” because they “know” before they start the likelihood of ever making more than a dollar a day is slim. But why is that?

For so many, it comes down to perfection. They are spending years upon years perfecting that first book when honestly your first book is probably shit. It’s practice and you should bin it. Hey, put down your torch and pitchfork, I’m guilty of this one too! Doesn’t change the facts.

Unless you’re ridiculously lucky, one fantastic book is not going to feed your family. Even if that book becomes a New York Times Bestseller it’s still not going to be perfect. None of the books on my bookshelf are perfect. Rothfuss’ books are meandering. Fiests’ are littered with errors. That last book in the Obernewtyn series needed a couple of extra months on the editor’s desk. Even if a book managed to somehow be flawless, non-controversal—and yet not utterly boring—it still wouldn’t be everyone’s cup of tea.

The writers who become famous do it without ever becoming (or producing something that is) perfect.

I saw a great meme the other day, hold on, let me dig it up.

How fucking true is that?

Likewise for veganism. We don’t need vegans policing each other. We don’t need to look down on the “meatless Monday” crowd for not doing better. We don’t need to beat ourselves up for taking the medicine with animal-derived ingredients. We don’t need to be perfect.

We need to let go of perfect. For the good of our people, and the earth.

You can’t give up cheese? Then don’t. Look at what you can give up, replace, or cut down on. Every egg you didn’t eat is an egg you didn’t eat. It’s a little bit of heart disease you’re saying no to. It matters. Every steak you don’t buy decreases the demand for that product. It tells the people breeding cows to forcefully impregnate fewer cows. Less cows being born, taken from their grieving mothers, producing greenhouse gas, and dying horribly. Every animal that doesn’t die for you matters, even if you don’t try to save them all.

Every choice you make matters.

Every salad you eat counts.

So what if you ate half a box of doughnuts after? That doesn’t mean the salad was a waste of time.

No, you’re probably not going to become the next Iron Woman or compete on American Ninja. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go to the gym. Heck, even taking the stairs instead of the lift contributes to your overall health. It’s one tiny change, but after a while you realise you’re not huffing and puffing, and all the people around you are.

If you’re not ready to give up the milk in your coffee (it took me two years, I’m with you!) phase out the milk you use in things where you won’t taste it, like curry and baked goods,  and buy a smaller carton just for coffee.

You’re not ready to KonMari your house? Cool.  But you can still get rid of that shirt you hate that your mother in law got you three years ago. The box of uncomfortable shoes that you just can’t face since having kids. And that weird kitchen gadget you bought back when you were afraid of pasta for no reason. Say goodbye to the junk you’re cleaning that you’re getting no benefit from. You don’t need to have a show home, you just want to be a bit less frustrated throughout the day.

Plastic and fast fashion are other big ones.  I can’t afford to buy organic bamboo and hemp sustainable clothing for my three growing kids. I don’t have the money for the quality vegan leather school shoes. It’s not going to happen. But I can make sure every piece of clothing is worn thirty times before death or donation (and if it can’t survive that, I know to stop buying that brand.) I can shop at second hand places or buy bundles of kid clothing off Facebook Marketplace.

I’m not in a position where I can eliminate plastic waste from my house, but we are all in a position where we can pay attention to what we buy. We can get the free range mushrooms instead of the bagged. We can pay ten cents more to get the glass jar that we’ll reuse over and over instead of the plastic our government won’t recycle.  We can get the bamboo hair and tooth brushes. We can cloth nappy our children and our bleedy vaginas.

And changing over to plastic-free toilet paper? One of the happiest decisions I’ve made so far. I have a subscription with Who Gives A Crap, who bring my 100% recycled toilet paper right to my door and donate 50% of their profits to toilet building charities. There are a few companies doing this now. Nope, I’m not getting sponsored for this post, either.

You can buy refillable razors. You can re-use the zip-lock bag that your frozen berries come in. There are loads of easy things we all can do, and those efforts stack to make a tangible change.

But so many people won’t.

If you want your Turkey at thanksgiving, eat it. That doesn’t mean you can’t choose tofu tonight.

If you want your dairy milk chocolate, buy it. That doesn’t mean you can’t change over to olive oil instead of butter.

You want to have two cars? Cool. Still ride your bike when it’s sunny enough.

There are a lot of things wrong with society. The Earth Mother is crying. Humans are eating themselves into early graves. There is still slavery in the world. White Australians are still stealing First Nations children. People will say no to a straw to save fish, but won’t stop eating fish to save fish. The women who make the vast majority of our clothes work in dangerous conditions and are paid less than a living wage. Humans in our own cities are homeless or addicted or are veterans not getting enough money to survive. Our governments are corrupt and care more about money than creating change for the better. People are kept in the dark and fed bullshit about so many issues.

You can’t fight all the battles. You can’t donate to all the charities.

We’re never going to be perfect people in a perfect world.

But the world doesn’t need perfect people. The world needs more people willing to try. People willing to learn and research. People willing to make small consistent changes.

People who care.

People who think before they purchase.

People who eat more chickpeas and less chicken.

People who bring their own bags or boxes.

People who choose the milk and honey body wash that wasn’t tested on animals.

People who are brave enough to have a go.

Just try.

We need imperfect stories and well-meaning hearts. If you fall off the wagon, who gives a shit? You can get back on! Stop letting perfection steal your opportunities for growth, success and happiness. Go ahead, be the change.

Miriam Cumming is everything normal people hate: a feminist, a witch, a vegan, and an environmentalist. When she’s not annoying waiters and howling at the moon, she follows her true passion: writing fantasy. If you found this blog useful or amusing, please share it.