Those people living ideal lives don't exist; we all are flawed and wounded. We just don't know about it and many play a game of hiding it, as if we are in a competition to see who can appear more perfect. When I see someone present that way, I assume they are hiding more. Personally, I purposely avoid playing the game. Nobody is fooling anybody anyway, and maybe I can inspire someone by being more open about my problems.

The injuries and scars are human condition. I sometimes imagine they are like the parts chiseled out, as a sculpture would a block of stone. Those (non-existant) perfect people are an untounched block - there is nothing there.