The Aquarius project I’m Not Perfect is an expression of the need to encourage women to let go of the burdensome mantra of perfection that has been passed down to them for generations, with varying degrees of subtlety.

Not one of us women has grown up without receiving instructions on what we should be, what is desirable, what is or isn’t “suitable for a woman”. Each of us has felt that sharp mold which we’re expected to fit into in order to meet an unwritten yet verbally imposed standard — one that has “cut off” some portion of our personality.

Like in Cinderella, some shoes were too small to fit us – but they were forced on us nevertheless, because suffering, as we were told, leads to some imaginary prince or goal, even if it costs us our toes.

As Elena Ferrante so brilliantly observed in her essay titled Even Today, After A Century Of Feminism, We Can’t Fully Be Ourselves, a woman is still destined to follow the measure set by men for generations — to conform to it, not to cross the boundary that would lead her into that fatal realm of being too much, which would discard her from the world of the desirable and the imagined ideal of womanhood.

In practice, that inner urge instilled in each of us, produces countless hyper-adapted girls, who later become women.

That sweet abundance of politeness, charm, warmth, pliancy, and a desire to please everyone typically climaxes after forty – when years of endurance and ignoring one’s true self turn into chronic dissatisfaction – eventually causing the bubble of perfection to burst.

That’s the familiar moment when everyone asks, “What’s wrong with her all of a sudden?” – not realizing it’s all but sudden. In the same essay, Ferrante points out that “Women live surrounded by constant contradictions and unbearable efforts.”

This project is envisioned as a small step forward, driven by the idea that we might offer the missing understanding through personal stories and perhaps prevent the “burst” altogether – which will only happen if we get to the bottom of it and forever change the messages passed down to little girls, if we teach them that they don’t have to be prisoners of the impossible, but can pulse with the life of their true being, reflecting all that it means to be human, rather than mirroring only the socially desirable — and fundamentally distorted and false — image.

Because no one is perfect, and it’s inhumane to expect perfection from anyone.

In that spirit, I’m Not Perfect is a space that gathers the stories of women who, in their own unique ways, resisted the “mold of perfection” and refused to let it stop them or reduce them to lifeless ideas.

They pushed boundaries, expanded the limits of what’s possible, and refused to accept clichés that something “isn’t for women.”, guided by a deep awareness and firm

belief that such leaps don’t require superhuman strength, that imperfect women, with all their human flaws — forgetfulness, tiredness, anger, disappointment, illness — can achieve their goals without abandoning their individuality.

They too were told they wouldn’t be able to fly, teach, sing, heal, write, raise children while running businesses, managing companies — but they did, despite all the fears and flaws — and they decided to share the little imperfections, funny and sad moments from their lives, the mistakes they made, the lessons they learned, and the way they kept moving forward all the same, as opposed to dwelling on them, despite being admittedly ashamed of them at the time.

The world isn’t built on perfection — it’s built on learning and persistence. Mistakes are often the engines of new ideas and possibilities. They happen along the way, and simply introduce different steps that lead us to new things. And who’s to say which way is the right way?

I remember how, when I was a girl, my aunt used to make me walk with a book on my head to fix my posture, as my legs were too quick, having too much of this outward-facing eagerness unsuitable for girls, having already been criticized by my high-school teacher for “walking like a cowboy”, or by my own mother for “walking like a man”. Those words hurt. What was I supposed to do and where was I supposed to go with that ungraceful, unladylike walk, with those crooked legs that had somehow lost their femininity?

It took me years to fall in love with my quick legs which carried me all over the world faithfully, and the book is no longer on my head – but in my bag keeping me company wherever I go. Some other legs and another way of walking would have slowed me down, held me back, and I wouldn’t have reached all those places and people who didn’t look at my legs but looked at me, who didn’t think about my walk but about the words we exchanged about things that mattered. I never learned to walk “gracefully,” and I’ve come to realize that I don’t even want to. What I want is to speak and write beautifully. Others can’t know what matters to us until we dare to show and tell them.

I was stunned by the power of women’s voices in this book, as they were speaking about what mattered to them, about the paths to self-realization, the ways they confronted their own limits and imperfections and bravely kept going, remaining true to themselves despite the small clumsinesses, the traps of society, illnesses, misfortunes, and both external and internal prejudices that can so easily bind our being into the dead ends of others’ expectations.

The women behind the stories of this book, with the exception of a few, are not writers – they are doctors, directors, pilots, athletes, professors, singers, scientists, actresses, humanitarian workers, psychologists… They are women who actively participate in society, many of them already leaving significant marks on the times we’re living in, but what they chose to share with you – skillfully and articulately, despite lacking formal writing experience – are not their achievements, but their human, imperfect sides.

By revealing them, they want to encourage and support you on your own path, as fulfillment does not come through perfection, but through accepting imperfection as a part of who we are.