Jesus wasn't excepting nor wanting me to be perfect in the way I thought of perfect. My version of perfection is a pedestal, a level that no one can reach where their body is impeccable, their academic record is flawless, and their personal life is unblemished. But Jesus Himself was battered and bruised, considered stupid by the religious leaders of the day, and had drama in His personal life.
Yet, there is no greater freedom than finding yourself at the foot of the cross, in the place where you are afraid to wait, where uncertainty and fear abound. That place is holy.