Confessions of A Recovering Perfectionist.

Perfectionism is a state of seeking completion so much that it paralyzes action. A way to live is to try things and fail. I gained this perspective while trying new things. But trying new things comes with a fear of failure and judgment. I am more scared of judgment more than I will like to acknowledge. I am most concerned by what people I love think: family, friends.

I am trying to shed this cloak. Try new things and fail. Live despite fear and judgment. It is like putting my feet in ice-cold water on a winter morning. Sometimes I do it afraid and, other times I just do it.

This perfectionism is pretentious because it comes with the imagery of completion. I visualize a state when a task is complete, not done, but complete. I plan for completion which keeps me from getting things done. When I have to get tasks done, I do it with a focused intensity. I do this to fight procrastination because I fear it might snatch these tasks and poof! They’re gone. My friends tell me sometimes I disappear. I disappear so procrastination can’t find me. If I don’t tell and I just do, it’s voila! Done! I see how this can be weird because it seems secretive. But friends, I am hiding me from me.

What does “done” look like. What is done? What is complete? I am so familiar with raising the bar high that planning for “done” makes my head hurt. Behind this is fear that things will not be good enough. And to this I say, it is okay. Let’s start with getting it done.

Perfectionism is rooted in fear and judgment.

At least for me. What would happen if….? But love, love is a powerful thing. I have seen people act in love and, it inspires my recovery from perfection. And no, it was not only in church. People who go to church have loved me. Some church people can be judgmental. Same people but different actions depending on the social space. I might discuss this further in future.

A memorable love experience was seeing a parent interact with her child. This child, with a big smile, lied about something. She was in the habit of lying to get extra sweets or food. I thought her mother was going to go awry, you know, let all hell loose. But she did not. She was calm like she knew her daughter was going to lie. And somehow, teased, laughed, giggled, and the girl told the truth. There was no fit, no scolding, but the truth came. I saw at other times how their father interacted with her and the other children. He was patient. But her mother got to me the most because of her sweet gentleness. People misunderstand her. They translate her physical features: short hair, set jaw, to being tough. But she was understanding. This memory gives me an image of God, of love that I can connect with. Love does not expect me to be perfect and love knows I will mess up but it urges me on.

Another compelling experience was seeing my professor engage with students and faculty. I am searching for words to describe how one feels being around him. Amour-propre, you experience your self-worth and self–respect. This professor respects everyone; and himself. You treat others how you treat yourself so it is no surprise his self-respect stimulates one’s confidence.

He has a sincere interest in one’s well-being that urges you to open up and share. Students go to his office to talk about school and end up sharing personal travails. It just happens. In there, you are at peace with yourself and safe to confront your fears.

I tried to suppress my emotions once. I promised myself I wouldn’t share. When he asked how I was doing, I said “fine” and moved on to talk about school. He said, “you’re not fine.” Your eyes give you away.

He has no reason to care about me or others, but he does. What fascinates me is the balance, his ability to care about others and himself at the same time. Boundaries! I aspire to this. Even the good book says perfect love cast out fear. In fear I always strain, nothing is ever enough. But in love, I exist.

Perfectionism is tiring.

I have a million projects started and completed in my head. In reality, I can only manage one or two at a time. I have learned to beat this conundrum by just starting. Rather than wait for the full energy to write on my laptop, I’m writing on my phone, under my blanket. I am learning to be, one step at a time.

An amazing thing happened the other day. “Why did they do that?” Worry asked. “I don’t know,” I responded. “And maybe I don’t want to find out,” logic added. This conversation took place in a bathroom and I paused while unrolling toilet paper to clean up. I was aware of myself while these thoughts were going on. I felt like a third person observing my mind. I’ve always heard gurus say be aware of your thoughts, watch them and let them go. At this moment, I felt what that means. I was aware of my thoughts and aware of my power to not pursue every single thought. I left the bathroom feeling like a champ. I should do this more often. Perfectionism tries to respond to everything but love, self-love allows things to be.

Be.

This word made me squirm; actually, it pissed me off! Just be! Just exist, they say. What the ‘“/& does that mean?! Hello! Excuse me! Eckhart Tolle says it too and I want to throw the book against the wall. Like, give me steps! What does this mean? I can’t breathe my way to success! Eyes rolling.

Behind this sarcasm is fear. If I let my thoughts free, they will drown me. But when I let go, my thoughts don’t drown me. Rather I am conscious of now — this present time. I do things that bring joy and build confidence. For example, rather than inundate in a worry that I will never get a job, I take action. I edit my resume, apply for jobs, and go to sleep. When I’m tired, I rest. Some days none of these work and, that’s okay too. If I need to watch a few Netflix episodes to recover and keep working that’s fine. It’s like the story of the tortoise and the hare. The hare runs, crashes, and burns. The tortoise takes a while and gets to the finish line. Sometimes I’m a hare, other times a tortoise. I want to be a lioness, more honestly a dog. Not what you think. Dogs are happy because they don’t worry. At the same time, they are loyal, responsible, and loving.

Love yourself

I love me, now, with my flaws, perfectionism and all. I had taken people’s responses as feedback on who I am. Now I know that how people respond to me spurs from their socialization, ideologies, and complexities. I have no power over that. Everyone is going through their shit. How people react to me is their business, how I respond to this is mine.

So I am learning to love myself by setting a boundary on what I believe versus what people say. When thoughts pop in my head I am making it a habit to reflect by asking questions, “Where did I get that from?” “Is this my belief or something I picked up elsewhere?” This way I don’t take everything in as mine. It’s like shopping for mangoes, you check them out until you find the juiciest.

I am learning to love myself by accepting what is good, what I don’t like, and what is in progress. I love that sometimes I can be chill other times hardworking and I will like to be more consistent by drawing both sides in balance. Balance does not mean equilibrium. It means expressing part (s) of me required to live and not just survive. So when I need to kick back and relax I can do that and when I need to go for it, I can as well.

This confession is a note to me but also a letter to recovering perfectionists. I hope you find questions and thoughts that help you on your journey.