Often I am asked why I called our mental health charity “Mr. Perfect”.
I can confirm immediately that the name is not inspired by the superstar WWF (World Wrestling Federation) wrestler Curt Henning, also know as “Mr. Perfect”.
Nor is it a nod to one of the characters, Mr. Perfect, from the 1970s British children’s book series, Mr. Men.
The reason for the name lies in the fact Mr. Perfect started as a rudimentary blog website I setup in 2014. In 2013 I had started writing a book as a form of therapy (pre-professional help). It was my story, and I called it by the same name, but then tucked that project away (for now) and setup the blog as a more easily digestible read for others.
When the blog morphed from just that into a service providing monthly Meetup BBQs, now our main vehicle, the name stuck. Also we soon found the logo looked damn good on a tee shirt.
But that does not fully explain why does it?
In 2013 I was the height of what others perceived as “success”. I was about to get married to an incredible woman in a stunning part of Sydney, I had peaked monetarily at work, we lived in a beautiful water-side apartment in Mosman, I had savings and truly could have done what I wanted.
Had I been in the right mental state.
For the previous three years at work one of my best mates and I had a healthy competition. We were riding high in the company but in terms of personality were chalk and cheese, introvert versus extrovert. He teased me, “Oh here comes Mr. Perfect”, and innocently say things like, “The boss loves you”, or exchange banter about a new suit I had bought or similar.
It made me uncomfortable but as was my nature, I never said anything, would blush and smile and carry on. And then go home and regularly break down, weighted by PTSD, depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts.
So to summarise, when the blog began it seemed like the perfect (ahem) fit. Mr. Perfect is contradictory. Mr. Perfect is a sarcastic nod to the general male approach to mental health. Mr. Perfect is a metaphor for what the world expects us to be. And Mr. Perfect is the mask we wear.
Regardless of background, means, resources or age, if any of the above resonated, even a sentence from that last paragraph, be assured you have a place to call home in Mr. Perfect. Come along one of our BBQs soon and check out the locations and schedules here: