Improvement

M.I.A.. Mutual Improvement Association.

I remember reading those words while sitting in a Sunday school class as a fifteen-year-old with a self-esteem about the size of a pea. I was probably grounded at the time, with a fresh batch of acne on my chin, a run in my nylons, and fifteen extra pounds to lose. I focused on the word Improvement and felt . . . What? Defeated? Overwhelmed? It's hard for me to choose the right word. In short, I just didn't feel good enough. I remember wondering to myself: When will my best be good enough? When will I be good enough just the way I am? Why am I always needing improvement?

At the time, it felt to me as if everywhere I looked, someone was doing better than I was. If I got straight A's on my report card, someone else got straight A's in all A.P. classes. If I got a new outfit, someone else got a new name-brand outfit. And in every area of my life, there was room for improvement. Though I had near perfect grades in science and German, my math grades needed improvement. In swimming, while my pull was somewhat strong, my kick needed improvement. At work, even though I showed up for work on time, my attitude needed--you guessed it--improvement.

I wondered if it would ever end. Well, now I know that the short answer is no. But I feel the need to qualify that answer.

At the immature and inexperienced age of fifteen, all I wanted was love, acceptance, and admiration. To me, at that time, suggesting that I needed improvement was to deny me love, acceptance, and admiration. If I wasn't good enough just the way I was--bad attitude, sagging math grades, and all--well then, I wasn't good enough, period.

Now with the wisdom of years I've come to realize that it isn't that cut and dry. I know plenty of people who love me the way I am. They know my flaws, have seen me mess up plenty of times, and offer me acceptance just the same. But I now understand the importance of loving and accepting myself. And in order to love and accept myself, I need to be the best I can be. To be the best I can be, I need constant improvement. And this process never ends.

It's not as bad as it sounds; when I'm working to do better or learn a new skill, I'm happier, more energized, and plainly said, nicer to be around. It's a win--win situation. The key is not to compare myself, my work, my best with that of those around me. Let's face it: someone is always smarter, thinner, and more successful--and with nicer shoes, too. What's important is seeing improvement. Improvement means progress. Progress means happiness. And when I'm happy I can love, accept, and yes, even admire myself--acne covered chin, running nylons, and all.