10 Perfectionistic Beliefs I Had to Replace Before Marriage

Two years ago, I didn’t feel anywhere close to being “marriage-ready.” Yet, as I write this, I’ve been happily married for eight months. What helped me take this big step? What changed? After much reflection, I’ve identified a few key factors. They all relate to specific limiting beliefs I once held (highlighted in red). Identifying and replacing these beliefs was crucial for developing my confidence to thrive personally, build a meaningful future, and start a family.

Color Coding

Lies: Unconscious, limiting beliefs that held me back from pursuing marriage.
Truth: Conscious, empowering beliefs that helped me develop a healthy mindset preparatory for a successful marriage.

Lies	Truth
1. My imperfection makes me unrighteous and an unworthy prospective husband and father.	1. Perfection isn't a prerequisite for marriage.
2. Single people are somehow incomplete.	2. I never needed “a better half” to complete me.
3. I just have to wait for "the right one" to come along.	3. Marriage is a choice, not something that happens to you.
4. The higher my caliber, the better mate I can attract.	4. So-called perfect people are boring and unrelatable.
5. The more perfect I become, the less likely my marriage will end in divorce.	5. Honesty is the rubber that allows for resilient marriages.
6. Expecting that relationships probably won't work out.	6. "This could be the one." (The Glass Slipper Approach.)
7. Marriage ought to be my chief pursuit in life.	7. Discipleship > Marriage.
8. Perfection is possible now. Repentance is for the weak.	8. Perfection is an eternal pursuit. Repentance is not the backup plan.
9. Therapy is for weirdos.	9. Therapy is awesome!
10. I am not enough.	10. I am enough; right now, as I am.

Belief Set #1

My imperfection makes me unworthy of marriage.

I used to believe that my imperfections made me unworthy of a committed marriage relationship. I thought others would think less of me if they saw my flaws. This belief filled me with shame, which I kept bottled up instead of sharing with others. By isolating myself, I never gave anyone the chance to challenge my harmful beliefs or show me a different perspective.

The harder I worked to appear perfect, the more disappointed and ashamed I felt every time I fell short. This cycle of striving for perfection and failing only deepened my sense of unworthiness, creating a mental block that kept me from genuinely pursuing marriage.

For years, I stayed stuck in a cycle of "dating for fun." I went through the motions because it felt expected, but deep down, I wasn’t ready for a real connection. I told myself I might eventually "get there" once I felt safe enough. But the closer the relationship became, the more afraid I was of losing everything if I revealed my true self. Instead of facing my struggles, I distanced myself from the parts of me I disliked, which only strengthened my harmful beliefs.

Looking back, it feels surreal to think I lived this way. But at the time, it felt like the only way to cope with my pain—by hiding from it. I now see how much I had tied my worthiness to achieving perfection.

The limiting belief I held: Worthiness = Perfection.

Perfection isn't a prerequisite for marriage.

Perfection ≠ Worthiness.

The turning point in my dating life came when I embraced the idea that it’s okay to be imperfect. After years of fearing judgment for my flaws, I was surprised to find that people were far more accepting than I expected when I started living vulnerably and wholeheartedly, as Dr. Brené Brown suggests. Striving to appear perfect when I wasn’t was exhausting and ultimately futile. (#EsseQuamVideri)

Reading the LDS Gospel Topics Essay, "Becoming Like God" helped me understand that I am worthy of marriage as I am—imperfections and all.

Belief Set #2

Single people are somehow incomplete.

I used to believe that single people are somehow incomplete. I thought, "I shouldn’t be content as a single person. After all, God said, 'It is not good for man to be alone' (Genesis 2:18). He wants me to be married. If I’m still single at 30 or older, I must be displeasing God. If man isn’t whole without the woman, then marriage must be the missing piece that will make me complete. But here’s the catch: I can’t get married until I feel whole, complete, and perfect on my own first."

This belief created a frustrating cycle I couldn’t escape. #Catch22

I never needed “a better half” to complete me.

The idea that marriage "completes" us is a cultural misconception, often reinforced by media and well-meaning loved ones. While there may be some truth to it, I misunderstood it for years. I hoped the right person would fill a missing piece inside me, believing their love would be the perfecting factor I needed.

But I eventually realized that no one else’s love could make me happy or whole if I didn’t already love myself. As Eckhart Tolle teaches, happiness comes from accepting each moment and ourselves as we are. This shifted my mindset—I stopped looking for happiness or wholeness in someone else and embraced being content and imperfect as a single person.

When I truly accepted myself, I felt God’s assurance of His love and approval, just as I was. This prepared me to welcome another “whole” person into my life—not to complete me, but to share life with me.

Shel Silverstein’s The Missing Piece Meets the Big O beautifully illustrates this concept. For those who are intrigued by this idea, the prequel, The Missing Piece, explores the first part of the protagonist's journey through singlehood, offering a thoughtful perspective on self-discovery and wholeness.

Belief Set #3

"I just have to wait for 'the right one' to come along."

Have you ever heard the well-meaning advice to "wait on God's timing"? Friends and family often offer it to console their single loved ones, and I heard it countless times over the years. While it may come from a place of love, I’ve found it to be unhelpful after 20 years of dating experience. This “waiting” mindset only gave me an excuse to avoid taking initiative or responsibility for my life.

This fairytale thinking became an easy crutch. I spent too much time sitting on my couch, wishing for someone to magically appear who shared my sense of humor or laughed at the same obscure sitcom jokes I loved. Even when I thought I might have met "the one," I doubted my ability to recognize it because I hadn’t taken responsibility for my choices. Instead, I’d think, “Is she really ‘the one’? I’m not sure… Oh well, I guess my lucky stars will align eventually.”

This seductive yet passive mindset kept me stuck, waiting for life to happen instead of actively pursuing what I truly wanted.

Marriage is a choice, not something that happens to you.

One key shift that marked my readiness for marriage was taking responsibility for my life. I stopped passively waiting for God or fate to place the right person in my path and decided to take action—not control, but intentional action. I set daily, weekly, and monthly goals and worked hard to achieve them. Whether or not I succeeded didn’t matter as much as the effort. One of my goals was to ask out at least two women on dates each month—something I could control.

I broadened my perspective by letting go of the idea of a “soulmate” or “dream girl.” Instead, I approached dating with optimism, focusing on genuinely getting to know people. I viewed everyone as having marriage potential (a “glass slipper” approach) and stayed open to appreciating the good in the person in front of me.

By focusing on being myself and simply enjoying the experience, I freed myself from the pressure of always needing to put my best foot forward in case she was "the one." This mindset made it much easier to identify when a relationship wasn’t the right fit. I could honestly say, “You’re a wonderful person, and I’m grateful for the time we’ve spent together, but I don’t think our strengths align for the long term.”

Over time, the more dating experience I gained, the more confident and decisive I became about the qualities I sought in a spouse. I no longer relied on vague hopes that “something would click” or that the universe would reveal its intentions during the relationship.

I know everyone’s path toward marriage is unique, and mine certainly isn’t a model to follow. However, I believe the principle of taking responsibility for your journey is universal.

Belief Set #4

"The higher my caliber, the better mate I can attract."

I used to believe that if I could systematically eliminate my flaws before marriage, I would become worthy of—and ultimately attract—someone with whom I could enjoy a lasting, exalted marriage. This idea was ingrained in me as a child through teachings like President Gordon B. Hinckley’s "Living Worthy of the Girl You Will Someday Marry" (April 1998). It was further reinforced during my LDS mission, where missionaries would jokingly say, "The harder you work, the more beautiful your spouse will be."

While I can see how this mindset might make sense with a bit of mental gymnastics, it’s mostly wrong and harmful.

For years after returning home, this belief shaped my daily life:

Wake up.
See a cute girl.
Think, “I’m so broken and imperfect; only weirdos would consider me marriage material. But if I wait longer and prepare harder, I’ll end up with a ‘better’ eternal companion.”
Spend 99% of my day living a Christlike life.
Commit a sin.
Beat myself up, reinforcing the belief that I wasn’t ready for a real relationship.
Pray for forgiveness.
Go to sleep.

This cycle left me stuck in a loop of self-doubt, perfectionism, and passivity, preventing me from truly connecting with others or accepting myself as worthy of love and relationships.

So-called perfect people are boring and unrelatable.

At first glance, this might seem controversial, but hear me out. Consider the types of people we find most likable: comedians, extroverts, class clowns, or best friends. What do they have in common? They aren’t afraid to be fully themselves—flaws and all. Genuine connection comes from authenticity, not perfection.

Sadly, some people try to connect by doing foolish or exaggerated things just to get attention. While it may provoke laughter, it doesn’t foster real, meaningful relationships. In contrast, we naturally bond with those who are willing to show us their whole, unvarnished selves.

This truth hit me in an unexpected way. After graduating from BYU, I started training as a firefighter. To help pay the bills, I answered a human-figure modeling ad for a local art studio—something I had never done before. Nervously, I showed up in a robe and swimsuit, having worked out extra hard that day to highlight my “perfect” physique. On my way in, I passed another model leaving—a woman over 300 pounds, dressed as if she’d been living on the streets. Evaluating her based on what I thought a model looked like, I arrogantly thought, "They must be hard-pressed to find 'good' models!"

Then came my turn. The art director approached and inspected me like a fishmonger evaluating a fresh catch. Instinctively, I flexed my abs. His words hit like a punch: “Boring. But you’ll do for today, I guess.”

“Boring?!” I fumed, feeling both indignant and ashamed as I stepped onto the podium. For the next 90 minutes, I stewed while a roomful of budding artists sketched my “boring” body. A few sessions later, still chasing validation, I asked the art director what made a “good” model. His response changed my perspective.

He explained that as an artist, he saw the world differently. To him, everyone on the street was a potential subject, but perfect, flawless people were boring. It’s the wrinkles, scars, and imperfections—the visible marks of life’s experiences—that make a subject interesting to draw.

For most of my life, I believed perfection was the ultimate ideal. I wanted to be seen as flawless, thinking that was the key to worthiness. But this moment planted a seed of truth that would take me another 10 years to fully embrace: it’s our imperfections, our realness, that make us compelling, relatable, and truly worthy of connection.

Belief Set #5

The more perfect I become, the less likely my marriage will end in divorce.

Divorce was one of my greatest fears—a public validation of my deepest insecurity: that I wasn’t enough to make a marriage work. I believed that the more perfect I became, the lower the risk of divorce. This fear-driven, loss-averse mindset convinced me that perfection was the key to being ready for marriage and attracting a flawless spouse who would guarantee success.

I saw marriage as too important to approach before I was “ready.” Growing up, I often heard, "The selection of your companion is the greatest single decision you will make in mortality, for it is the basis of your eternal happiness." With eternity at stake, striving for perfection felt like the safest choice.

This belief trapped me in a cycle of constant preparation and fear, certain that my imperfections would prevent me from having a lasting, successful marriage.

Imperfection doesn't ruin marriages; dishonesty does. Trusting others with my imperfection (vulnerability) is essential for building a strong marriage.

For a long time, I believed that a spouse discovering hidden imperfections was what broke marriages apart. But I’ve realized it’s not imperfection that separates people—it’s dishonesty. We’re all imperfect, and only by allowing ourselves to be fully seen can we create the bonds that strengthen a marriage.

Instead of hiding my flaws, I learned to own them and share them with those closest to me. To feel ready for marriage, I needed to know that my wife could see me completely and still love me. That was the biggest hurdle holding me back. While other factors like attraction, shared goals, and family compatibility mattered, nothing was more meaningful than feeling fully accepted for who I was.

This acceptance only came when I started living wholeheartedly, inspired by Dr. Brené Brown’s teachings. Wholehearted living required me to drop my defenses, embrace vulnerability, and risk being hurt. Thankfully, the growth from that process didn’t take too long before I met Stacia.

Accepting my imperfections was liberating. It helped me set healthy boundaries where I had none before and made me less sensitive to feedback or the fear of upsetting others. As Rob Thomas sings in Smooth by Santana, I stopped “changing my life to better suit your mood.” I no longer felt the same need to hustle for validation because I genuinely liked my imperfect self. To my surprise, others liked the real me even more as well.

Belief Set #6

Expecting that relationships probably won't work out.

I approached relationships with the assumption that they likely wouldn’t succeed for three main reasons:

Statistics: The odds seemed stacked against me, and the numbers reinforced this belief.

Perfectionism: I held others to the same impossible standards of perfection that I held for myself.

Fear of Failure: After experiencing so many “failed” relationships (ones that didn’t lead to marriage), this belief became a defense mechanism to protect me from future heartache.

For example, I remember developing feelings for someone but quickly suppressing them because I didn’t want to risk disappointment if the relationship didn’t work out. This worry-driven mindset made me hyper-focused on red flags, often looking for reasons to exit relationships preemptively if I feared they might end badly.

At its core, this mentality was rooted in fear. I thought, “I won’t marry you—or even show you my true self—unless you first prove you won’t hurt me.” This approach kept me from taking risks and prevented me from building the trust and vulnerability essential for a meaningful connection.

**The glass slipper approach.**

I used to unconsciously approach dating with an arrogant mindset. Before I'd consider committing to a relationship, women had to prove they had already achieved their ideal selves—a standard I hypocritically could not attain myself. I hoped that, once I found my "dream girl," she would motivate me to quickly perfect myself before she discovered my imperfection.

Gratefully, I broke free from this destructive approach when I learned to embrace my imperfections and love myself for who I was—a broken, but striving disciple of Christ. Once I embraced my flaws and fully relied on the Savior's healing Atonement, it finally allowed me to extend the same grace to others. Suddenly, everyone had the potential to be a marriage partner and eternal companion. No one needed to prove themselves anymore. We were all okay as we were.

Six months before meeting Stacia, I adopted a “glass slipper” approach to dating. Instead of holding new women to some unattainable ideal before agreeing to go out, I viewed dating as trying the metaphorical slipper on anyone and everyone—divorcees, single parents, those without long-term relationship experience, and more. If I didn’t enjoy being myself with someone, I would simply move on.

For this approach to succeed, I had to genuinely believe connecting with people I might not have initially considered was possible. It wasn't just about "casting a larger net;" it was more like scuba diving and hanging out with whatever marine life you found down there. I led with vulnerability and kept my heart open, allowing myself to explore each connection with curiosity, optimism, and wonder.

Like Cinderella, Stacia initially seemed like an "unlikely" match. (To be clear, this had nothing to do with her beauty—let me explain.) When I first saw her online profile photo, it was a stern-looking headshot, which I later learned had been taken for acting auditions. At the time, though, my imagination ran wild, and the vibe I picked up was, "Watch out! Potential dominatrix." (The image below isn’t her actual dating profile photo, but it has a similar vibe to what I saw.)

Despite my initial apprehensions, I decided to stay curious and start an online conversation. Little did I know, this decision would lead to something truly special. After some delightful texting and phone calls, I was still half-wondering if my wild imagination might be right. But the moment we met in person, Stacia erased any lingering doubts with one of her signature warm, friendly hugs. I’m so glad I was open enough to take that chance.

When choosing a marriage partner, my deciding question was straightforward: "Do I enjoy spending time with this person?" Of course, there was more to consider. I looked for a few essential qualities that gave me confidence we could learn and grow together as partners. These included honesty, a testimony of the Atonement, a growth mindset, integrity, and compassion.

While it's critical to be open to new possibilities, I also recognized an important truth: no one can fully know another person, no matter how well you think you do or how clearly you see their potential. Additionally, people change. The person you marry today will not be the same person years from now—and that’s good.

With this understanding, after spending enough meaningful time together in various situations, I gathered the "data" I needed to feel confident in committing to forever.

The bridal dress rental shop where I first met Stacia.

Aside: I recently found this dating compatibility test online with some pointed questions. I remember pondering many of these same questions as I considered a potential future with the women I dated. The site also includes additional relationship questions for later on!

Belief Set #7

Marriage ought to be my chief pursuit in life.

After spending 20 years in the Utah bubble, I internalized the false belief that finding an eternal companion was my greatest responsibility after serving an honorable full-time mission. I thought that, above all else—education, career, or personal interests—the primary goal of any righteous LDS single adult should be to become a devoted spouse and parent.

Discipleship > Marriage.

Many Christian singles, myself included, mistakenly believe that God’s primary goal for them is to get married. However, that’s not true. In a 2016 Facebook post, Elder Dallin H. Oaks emphasized that single Latter-day Saints should focus their deepest desires on becoming disciples of Christ. While marriage and parenthood are important, they are secondary to the ultimate goal of discipleship. Everything else in life, including relationships, flows from that foundation.

Belief Set #8

Perfection is possible now.

Three teachings from Church doctrine led me to believe this false idea:

Christ’s Command to “Be Ye Therefore Perfect” (Matthew 5:48):
As a child, I understood Christ’s words to mean I needed to be perfect right now. Children often struggle with understanding the dimension of time, and I was no exception. For me, obedience always meant immediate action, with no room for process or progression.
Amulek’s Teaching in Alma 34:32-34:
Amulek taught that “this life is the time to prepare to meet God.” As a student, I interpreted this to mean that mortality was like a study week before Judgment Day, the summative final exam. This added urgency and pressure to my striving for perfection, as I believed I had only one chance to get it right.
Doctrine & Covenants 131:1-4:
I misunderstood Doctrine & Covenants 131:1-4 to mean that there would be no eternal progression—that we would essentially be damned. The phrase “be allowed no increase” led me to believe that once we received our resurrected bodies at the judgment bar of God, our opportunity for growth and improvement would end. I thought that if I wasn’t perfect by that point, I’d forever miss my chance to become like God.

Together, these teachings, as I understood them, created a false and overwhelming expectation of perfection in this life. It wasn’t until I gained a deeper understanding of grace, repentance, and eternal progression that I began to let go of this impossible standard. Perfection is not a mortal destination—it’s a process made possible through partnership with Christ, to be achieved over time, even into eternity.

Perfection is an eternal pursuit.

Thanks in large part to these scripture verses, I believed that perfect behavior—never making mistakes—was possible in mortality. It took me some time to deprogram this belief. I now understand that change and growth are possible even after physical death. “This life” doesn’t truly end when the spirit separates from the mortal body. As eternal beings, we are always learning and evolving.

This realization helped me understand that I don’t have to be infallible to be worthy of a marriage relationship. Why? Because neither I nor the person I marry will remain the same person 100 or even 1,000,000 years from now. This shift in perspective was pivotal in my decision to prioritize striving for growth over striving for perfection.

Looking back, I see my former belief—that I could be perfect now—as a misunderstanding of Christ’s earthly mission and Atonement. How could I have believed that any of us could play the role of Savior for ourselves, with just a little help from Him along the way?

While I still strive for daily discipleship, I’m letting go of the need to avoid mistakes at all costs. This has allowed the Atonement of Christ to have a deeper, more transformative impact on my life. I’m also letting go of the belief that God is gravely disappointed in me when I sin. Instead, I now see God as sorrowful *with* me, heartbroken over the suffering I experience because of sin. He stands ready to extend mercy through His Son’s Atonement, bringing peace and redemption into my life.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland’s talk, “Be Ye Therefore Perfect—Eventually” (October 2017 General Conference), beautifully illustrates this principle and has been a source of encouragement and clarity for me.

Righteousness is not binary.

We cannot neatly categorize ourselves as either righteous or wicked. While our actions, words, and thoughts can be righteous or unrighteous, our lives are far more complex than simple labels. To me, righteousness means doing my best to follow God’s designated path toward Him. I can measure my righteousness by the power of the Holy Ghost I feel in my life. However, that path, though described as "strait," is not necessarily straight. Our individual journeys are often filled with unique detours, challenges, and growth opportunities—what I like to call beautiful bumps and scenic routes. J. Golden Kimball, one of the most colorful and beloved of the church's general authorities, I think, said it best, “I may not always walk the straight and narrow, but I sure in hell try to cross it as often as I can.”

The scriptures emphasize righteous works, but they also highlight the importance of righteous intentions. While we may not always act righteously, we can always repent, turn our hearts back to the Lord, and commit to future actions that align more closely with Christ’s teachings (D&C 59:8-14).

Examples like deathbed confessions or 11th-hour Christians illustrate this principle. These are people who may have lived lives marked by sin but are welcomed by Christ the moment they sincerely commit to Him (Matt 20:1-16). Their efforts are sufficient not because of their works alone, but because Christ’s grace is always sufficient. This grace makes all the difference, allowing each of us, regardless of where we are on the path, to strive for a life of discipleship.

Repentance is not the backup plan.

I grew up in a culture that instilled the idea that sin was something to be ashamed of and that God was deeply disappointed in sinners. This perspective led me to misunderstand the true role of repentance in God’s Plan of Salvation.

I once thought repentance was a fallback option—something to use only if my attempt to live perfectly failed. However, I’ve since learned that this view is flawed. Repentance is not just for "big" sins; it is a daily process of growth and self-improvement. Elder Ashton explained it best in his October 2016 General Conference address, The Doctrine of Christ:

"Repentance is not a backup plan in case our plan to live perfectly fails. It is not just for big sins but is a daily process for self-improvement…Living perfectly is not the plan. Repentance is the plan. Jesus Christ is the plan."

This understanding reframed my perspective, helping me see repentance not as a sign of failure but as the central part of God’s plan—a continuous, grace-filled journey toward becoming more like Christ.

Belief Set #9

Therapy is for weirdos.

For most of my life, I outwardly supported therapy as a healthy and positive thing for people to pursue. But privately, I believed that going to therapy was like being sent to the principal’s office—a sign that you couldn’t handle your own problems without (expensive) professional help.

The media reinforced this perception. In movies and TV, therapy was often depicted as something people were forced into—either by desperate family members or as a court mandate. Voluntarily seeking therapy? That wasn’t a thing. And when people spoke highly of their therapy experiences, I assumed they were just trying to justify their reluctant attendance.

This belief painted therapy as a last resort for people who had “failed” at managing their own lives, rather than what it truly is: a proactive, empowering tool for growth, healing, and self-discovery.

Therapy is awesome!

Healing happens through acceptance and connection, not perfection. For me, BYU's group therapy room became the first space where I practiced vulnerability. As I shared my imperfections with the group, I learned an incredible truth: people often struggle to connect with those who seem perfect and never make mistakes. Imperfection, on the other hand, is universally relatable because everyone experiences it.

I found that people connected with me even more when I presented my flaws with confidence and authenticity. It turned out that others cared far less about the shameful things I’d done than I did. Paradoxically, being willing to look “bad” actually made me more approachable and attractive to others. I realized that people enjoyed being around me more when I stopped trying to be an unattainable ideal of perfection—and most importantly, I liked myself better too.

Gradually, I began to feel safe being my true self, no longer hiding behind the armor of perceived perfection. Without the safe space and practice that therapy provided, I would never have dared to take this step.

The Japanese art of kintsugi beautifully illustrates this concept. It teaches that it’s okay to be broken because everything breaks over time. Moreover, broken things can become even more beautiful after they are mended, with their flaws celebrated as part of their story. Therapy helped me embrace my imperfections as a source of strength and beauty.

I strongly encourage seeking the support of a professional counselor. (Many insurances cover or subsidize regular, preventative mental health visits.) Therapists can help you uncover and address hidden beliefs that unknowingly sabotage your life.

Here are two foundational truths that helped me begin my journey:

Many struggles stem from issues of worthiness. Recognizing and addressing these deep-seated beliefs can unlock significant personal growth and healing.
Fighting against reality is futile. Don't fight. Instead, practice accepting and letting go of internal struggles—a freeing step toward peace and progress. For example:

Assumption: Pornography is evil.
Premise: If someone is addicted to pornography, they can’t be a dependable spouse or parent.
Conclusion: If you discover the person you’re dating has viewed pornography, you should end the relationship.

Such rigid conclusions can prevent meaningful understanding and healing. A counselor can help you untangle these assumptions, challenge limiting beliefs, and uncover healthier perspectives that lead to deeper compassion for yourself and others.

Through this process, you’ll gain clarity, self-awareness, and the tools to confidently move forward.

Belief Set #10

I am not enough.

For most of my life, I believed—without realizing it—that I wasn’t enough. This underlying belief shaped nearly everything I did. I worked hard to get good grades and achieve, achieve, achieve, constantly hustling for approval from my parents and anyone else around me. Without self-acceptance, I needed validation from others to feel okay about myself.

If someone took offense at something I said or did, I would immediately chastise myself and look for ways to change, determined not to make the same "mistake" again. My own needs were always secondary to the moods and expectations of those around me.

Looking back, I wish I had heard and truly believed this powerful quote on self-worth: "You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep other people warm." —Unknown

I am enough; right now, as I am.

In hindsight, I can’t believe I bought into the absurd belief that one must be perfect to be worthy of a marriage relationship. Everyone is flawed and imperfect! Perfection has never been a prerequisite for marriage—and it’s impossible.

This truth is clear when you consider any “perfect” marriage. Ask the people in it if they’re perfect, and the answer will always be, “No.” If no one is perfect, then how are so many people happily married? The answer is simple: imperfect people are marrying imperfect people! *Mind blown!*

The reality is that no one can reasonably expect perfection from anyone—not from their spouse, not from God, and especially not from themselves.

Conclusion

I hope this blog post sparks meaningful conversations, especially with my single friends. I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences if any of these ideas resonate with you. Feel free to reach out to swap stories or discuss these topics further—I’d genuinely enjoy hearing how you relate to my journey.

Tuesdays with Muerte