I still, at hotel rooms, I do this one sort of not-so-cool thing:

"I still, at hotel rooms, I do this one sort of not-so-cool thing: continually shoving my room service tray in front of someone else's door. Because I don't want the remnants. I don't want to be caught, like, being like the pig that I was at two in the morning." These words from Drew Barrymore speak to a profound truth about the human condition—our relationship with shame, self-image, and the fear of judgment. In this seemingly lighthearted admission, Barrymore reveals a deeper struggle that exists within us all, a struggle against the parts of ourselves we wish to hide. The remnants of our weaknesses, our desires, and our imperfections are what we fear others will see. And so, we push them out of sight, hoping to preserve the image of ourselves we wish to project to the world.

In this admission, we see the eternal battle between the ideal self—the version of ourselves we wish to be—and the real self, the one that sometimes falls short of the lofty image we hold. To be seen as a "pig", as Barrymore mentions, represents a fear we all know too well: the fear of others witnessing our most vulnerable moments, the moments of indulgence, excess, and imperfection. The human soul, in its deepest place, yearns for acceptance, for admiration, for love—and when we show the parts of ourselves that feel unworthy, we fear rejection. Yet, in this very action, Barrymore brings to light an important truth: our humanity lies in those imperfect moments, in those times when we are not our most polished selves.

Consider the great warriors of history, such as Alexander the Great, who were known for their indomitable strength, yet behind the image of heroism, they too had flaws and moments of weakness. Imagine Alexander in the stillness of night, when the grand battle was over and the world was silent. Did he, too, not face the private moments of doubt and weakness that we all face? Even the greatest of men have moments where they wish to hide their mistakes, their hunger, their vulnerabilities. Yet, it was in their acknowledgment of those flaws that they became more than just legends—they became human, and in that humanity, their greatness was born.

Drew Barrymore's story resonates deeply with our own lives. We have all, at some point, sought to hide the evidence of our indulgence, our struggles, and our imperfections. Perhaps we have been caught in a moment of weakness—eating too much, drinking too much, or saying things in haste that we regret. And in those moments, we, too, have shoved our "remnants" out of sight, hoping that no one would see us as less than we wish to appear. Yet, this very act of hiding exposes a deeper truth: it is our vulnerability that makes us human, and it is in accepting this vulnerability that we begin to understand the fullness of who we are.

Let us consider the wisdom of the ancients, who knew the power of self-acceptance. The Stoics—philosophers of old—taught that we should not fear being seen in our most unpolished state. They believed that true freedom came from accepting ourselves as we are, with all our flaws, and living with integrity in spite of them. Marcus Aurelius, a great Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher, would write in his meditations that the soul must be prepared for the imperfections of life, acknowledging that "nothing is a disgrace unless you think it is." By embracing the fullness of our humanity, we are liberated from the fear of judgment and can live with honor.

And here lies the lesson that Barrymore's moment teaches us: It is not the imperfections we should hide, but the fear of being imperfect. To continually shove away our mistakes and weaknesses is to deny the richness of who we are. The path to growth and self-acceptance begins when we stop running from our most vulnerable moments and instead face them with courage. We must learn not to fear the remnants of our late-night indulgences, but to own them and, in doing so, take the power away from shame.

Therefore, take this wisdom into your own life. The next time you find yourself hiding the remnants of your imperfections—whether it is a poor decision, a moment of weakness, or an error in judgment—pause and reflect. Do not push your humanity into the shadows. Embrace it, acknowledge it, and let it guide you towards a fuller, more authentic life. Understand that the remnants are not shameful, but a testament to your journey, to your struggles and victories alike. You are whole, with all your mistakes and your strengths, and in this wholeness, you will find the path to true peace and acceptance.