"That's so f-king easy ! How the hell did you do to get to this result ! Aren't you good at something besides being useless ! Your cousin already know how to do it perfectly while you are giving us bullsh-t !" That's what your parents would usualy tell you in whatever you failed. Grades at school, cooking, cleaning or hanging out with people. They were perfectionists and always compared you to someone who did better than you. Years passed and you did become a perfectionist yourself and you hated it. Everytime you did something and someone seemed to do it better than you, you would have started to get jealous, hate yourself but started to think you were a horrible person for not being happy about simple things and you would end up in tears.
You hated it, you really did but you couldn't get that perfection needing out of you. Years later, you got married to a man named Ryder. He was caring and loved you for who you were. He was awared of how you felt and how of a perfectionist person you were. He hated your parents for making you the perfect person you were now, he loved all your imperfections.
One night, you both were at one friend's house for a party. You helped with the cooking with the other women, you cooked chicken and were pretty proud of it. Later, you sat down at the table with Ryder to eat but you heard whispers.
"The turkey's delicious." "I know right !" "But I think I'll throw the chicken to the bin. The flavor is flat." "True. Is it a 5 years old who made this shit ?"
Your ears heard it. Oh not again... Your bad throughts got over your mind. I knew I should have cutted better. I should have put it longer in the hoven. I should have add more spice. Your eyes teared up as your tried your best to blink them away. Ryder's hand laid on your thigh, under the table, he looked at you with a concerned look.