Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist

I have spent most of my life trying to fit in because I didn’t know who I really was.  This drive to find a place where I fit had some unintended consequences; I became a perfectionist.  From a very young age I thought that if I did everything just right, made no mistakes, I would fit in. If I could just be perfect, no one would know my secret… that I had no idea who I was or what in the heck I was doing.

Brené Brown (a wonderful author and my one of my personal heroes; if you don’t know her please go check out her TED Talk on vulnerability) says that “perfectionism is a self-destructive and addictive belief system that fuels this primary thought: if I look perfect, live perfectly, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgement and blame.”

Boy was that me… I thought my perfectionism was a strength, if I was going to do something I was going to do it better than everyone else.  Everything had to be just right. I’d spend hours perfecting my work, agonizing over every detail and researching every option until I convinced myself I had created the perfect solution (whatever that was).  To be honest, perfectionism probably had a lot to do with my success at work.  It was awesome… except it wasn’t.  It was self-destructive and addictive and I was paying a really high price for that so-called success. Perfectionism came at a price and here’s some of what it cost me:

• Time – I spent so much time worrying about making sure things were just right that I wasted hours upon hours of time.  I could have used that time for so many other, more useful things.
• Experiences – If I thought I wasn’t going to be good at something, I just wouldn’t try.  If I tried something that I couldn’t pick up right away, I’d get frustrated and quit. I can’t tell you how many fun things I’ve missed out on because I was afraid of looking stupid or making a mistake.
• Credibility – In my pursuit of perfection I fooled myself into thinking I knew it all. When I gave someone an answer or a solution, I knew it was the “right” one. Inevitably I’d get some feedback either asking me to change something or telling me I wasn’t “right” and I would lose it. My perfectionist brain couldn’t handle it. I’d either get offended and react (I have a terrible poker face) or I would totally shut down and miss an opportunity for growth. It made me seem inflexible and at times, downright rude. I definitely lost some credibility with my reactions.
• Joy – Have you ever hear the phrase “comparison is the thief of joy”? This saying is SO true for me. I spent all of my time trying to be as good as or better than everyone else. To be perfect I had to constantly compare myself to others and keep up. I gave up things I wanted if it didn’t line up with my perfect image. There’s not a lot of room for joy in perfection.
• Connection – When you’re trying to be perfect you are basically walking around with your shields up all the time.  Having a giant wall around you for fear of being seen imperfect doesn’t exactly invite authentic and meaningful connection.  Perfectionism is a lonely, little room.
• Growth –  My perfectionism completely hindered my own personal growth. I was always trying to reach some unattainable standard, all while pretending to have no room for improvement. It was paralyzing and it prevented me from making any real progress.
• Money – Perfection is REALLY expensive.  If you always have to wear the perfect clothes, drive the perfect car, have perfect hair and have your kids in the perfect activities – it costs a lot.  Keeping up with the Jones’s is an expensive pastime.
• Health – Trying to seem perfect all the time, making sure no one sees my imperfections is stressful and exhausting.  That stress and exhaustion manifested itself in so many ways, headaches, illness, depression and fatigue, just to name a few.  Being “perfect” literally made me sick.

This was the price I paid for perfection and I was totally OK with it until I got smacked in the face with the realization that I wasn’t the only one paying that price.  The wake-up call that made me reevaluate my perfectionist status came in the form of a very serious (and very cute) four year old mirror.  I’ll never forget the day it happened. My sweet, sensitive oldest daughter sat at the kitchen table drawing as I sat in the living room watching TV. She was concentrating so hard, trying to make sure her picture was just right, when her hand slipped.  She made a mark she hadn’t intended and she lost it, crying frustrated and angry tears.  I’ll never forget the words she said as she crumpled up the drawing she had spent so long working on… now it’s not perfect, I can’t do anything.  My heart broke into a million pieces in that moment.  You see my perfectionism wasn’t just affecting me anymore; I had unknowingly and unwillingly passed my perfectionist tendencies down to my sweet, unsuspecting four year old daughter. It was at that moment that I decided I had to quit the destructive pattern. I would no longer strive for perfection.

Giving up my addiction to perfection was much easier theory than in practice.  In order to let go of perfection I had to be willing to be vulnerable.  I had to have the courage to fail. And I had to practice the art of self-compassion (a practice I was not very good at).  The road to recovery was intentional and hard, but I knew there was no going back.  I have been a recovering perfectionist for almost two years.  Today, instead of killing myself to be perfect, I simply strive to be the best version of me that I can be. I try to love myself the way I love others and to give myself a little grace. I have to remind myself every day that I’m only human, not a superhero.  Today, I am a work in progress and I’m constantly learning and growing and I truly love that about myself.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned over the past two years is that perfection means that you have no room to improve or grow.  Every once in a while I start to hear that familiar siren call of perfection; trying to find just the right picture for my blog post (it’s really not that serious!) or searching for the perfect question to ask a client (it doesn’t exist!) and I have to pull myself back from the edge.  When I hear the call I have to remind myself that perfection prevents progress; that giving into perfection boxes me in and limits my growth, it keeps me small.  I’m not willing to put myself in that box anymore. I’m NOT perfect and now… I’m not trying to be.

 

Do you struggle with perfectionism? If so, what is your price of perfection?