The weight of perfectionism

Chapter 12

Lila had always been a perfectionist. From a young age, she strived to get everything just right—whether it was in her work, her appearance, or how she interacted with others. Now, standing in the kitchen, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of her apron, she felt that old familiar pressure creeping in again.

Tonight was a special night. She and Alex had invited his pack over for a formal dinner, a step toward deepening her relationship with the pack. She knew how important it was to Alex for her to connect with them, and she wanted everything to be flawless. Every dish had been carefully planned and prepared, the table was set meticulously, and she had gone over the guest list at least three times to ensure no detail was overlooked.

But as she surveyed the room, something didn't feel right. The flowers on the table weren't arranged symmetrically, and the place settings looked too casual. Her heartbeat quickened, her thoughts racing, and suddenly, the small imperfections felt like they were threatening to unravel the entire evening.

"Lila?" Alex's voice called from the living room, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. "Everything okay in there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, though her voice wavered slightly.

She glanced around one last time, trying to shake off the anxiety gnawing at her. She wanted to believe Alex when he said she didn't have to stress so much, but in her mind, this dinner felt like a test she couldn't afford to fail.

Just as she turned to check the roast in the oven, she heard the doorbell ring. The pack had arrived.

Taking a deep breath, she wiped her hands on a towel and headed to the front door. Alex greeted the pack members with his usual charm, giving each of them a warm embrace. Lila stood back, a polite smile on her face, but inside, she felt the tension building. Every moment, every glance felt like a silent judgment, and her mind kept cycling through the checklist of things that could go wrong.

As everyone settled into the dining room, Lila busied herself serving the appetizers. She moved with purpose, her focus narrowing on the task at hand.

"Wow, Lila, this looks amazing," Jenna said, eyeing the spread of carefully prepared dishes.

"Thanks," Lila replied with a tight smile, her heart still racing.

As the evening progressed, conversation flowed easily around her, but Lila's mind was elsewhere. Every small detail that didn't go according to plan—a slightly overcooked side dish, a drop of wine spilled on the tablecloth—felt like a glaring failure. She forced herself to smile through it, but the weight of her perfectionism pressed down on her like a heavy stone.

Alex seemed to notice her unease. At one point during dinner, he reached under the table and gently squeezed her hand. "You're doing great," he whispered, his eyes filled with reassurance.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. She was so focused on making everything perfect that she barely registered the compliments and laughter filling the room. To her, the entire evening felt like a balancing act, one misstep away from disaster.

After dessert was served, Lila finally allowed herself a moment to breathe. The evening was winding down, and though nothing had gone catastrophically wrong, she couldn't let go of the small details that had been imperfect. She stood in the kitchen, cleaning up, trying to steady her nerves.

Alex appeared at the doorway, watching her for a moment before stepping inside. "Lila, you've been in here all night," he said gently. "Come outside and relax. Everyone's talking about how great the evening was."

"I just… I don't know if it was good enough," she murmured, her voice heavy with doubt. "I should've done better."

Alex frowned, walking over to her. "Better? Lila, this evening was incredible. The food was delicious, everyone had a good time… What makes you think it wasn't enough?"

"I just… I wanted it to be perfect," she admitted, finally voicing the fear that had been gnawing at her all night. "I didn't want to disappoint anyone—especially not you."

Alex's expression softened, and he stepped closer, taking her hands in his. "You didn't disappoint anyone, least of all me," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I don't need perfection, Lila. I need you to be happy and enjoy these moments with me."

She looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them, and felt a lump rise in her throat. "But I always feel like I have to get everything right," she whispered. "Like if it's not perfect, I'm failing."

"Lila," Alex said, his voice filled with warmth, "perfection isn't real. It's an illusion. Life is messy, people are imperfect, and that's what makes it beautiful. You don't have to be perfect for me, or for anyone else. I love you because of who you are, not because you can put together a flawless dinner party."

Her chest tightened as his words sank in. She had spent so much time chasing an impossible standard, believing that anything less than perfect was a failure. But here was Alex, reminding her that it was okay to let go, to be human, to be flawed.

"I just wanted everything to be right," she said softly.

"And it was," Alex replied, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "But more importantly, you were there with me. That's all that matters."

Lila rested her head against his chest, feeling the tension slowly leave her body. She realized that in her pursuit of perfection, she had forgotten to enjoy the evening, to be present in the moments that really mattered.

"I guess I've been holding onto this idea of perfection for too long," she admitted, her voice quiet. "Maybe it's time I let it go."

Alex kissed the top of her head, his arms still wrapped around her. "Perfection doesn't make things better, Lila. Love does. And I love you, exactly as you are."

For the first time that evening, Lila allowed herself to smile—a real, unguarded smile. She realized that perfection wasn't what she needed to strive for. What mattered most was being present, being herself, and embracing the beautiful imperfections of life.

As they walked back into the living room, hand in hand, Lila felt lighter. She didn't need to be perfect. She just needed to be there, with Alex, and that was more than enough.