Perfectly Imperfect: When Perfectionism Is Too Much

I write this as a recovering perfectionist. And even as I write this, I'm erasing lines because it doesn't feel “perfect” enough. My perfectionism started when I was a small child. I was often known as "the good one." The one who got good grades, the one who was smart, the one who kept her mouth shut, the one who followed the rules, the one who never caused trouble. The problem with all of this “goodness” is that it put me on a pedestal just ready to be knocked off—repeatedly. For some, perfectionism is about social acceptance; for me, it was more about safety. In my household, the more I was rewarded for being perfect, the less I was threatened with actions that would harm my psychological safety: intimidation, bullying, taunting, yelling, screaming, and some things I would prefer not to mention. It was hard, to say the least. So, "the good one" continued to stay “good” even as anxiety and eating disorders set in when I was in my teens. 

When I did make a mistake (because people can even find faults with those who are close to “perfect”), it was like the end of the world had come crashing down on me. I was put on a pedestal, and yet the bar for perfection kept moving higher and higher, so much so that I felt like I could never be “perfect” enough. Those mistakes felt like daggers to my soul. I would internalize them, ruminate on them, and punish myself for them—it never ended. This cycle was also a reflection of those around me who loved to beat me up for any mistake I made—no matter how small—as if the image that I portrayed was somehow tainted. The fear of making a mistake, and then the consequences of that mistake, kept me paralyzed and in a constant state of fight or flight. 

Flash forward to my thirties. With parental threats gone, it was still hard to make mistakes because the psychological threats in my brain were still there. When one has been traumatized, it's hard to let go even when you are no longer in that circumstance. I learned that not making mistakes would keep me safe, but in reality, it made me sicker and sicker. Anxiety in my thirties was at an all-time high as I tried to keep things together at my job, always fearing that I may “drop the ball” on someone. I knew there would be some sort of consequence, and I didn't want to find out. The fear of these consequences would lead to agonizing thoughts of getting in trouble or being punished. 

The more you strive for perfectionism, the harder you work, and the more you are rewarded—the cycle never stops. Until one day it does, leaving you broken in its wake. It happened to me in 2016 at the age of 35. I had been working for three-and-a-half years without a vacation and when I finally did take one, I just wasn't the same. It felt like I had tasted some sort of psychological freedom but couldn't break those old perfectionist habits; they returned and I was back to burning the candle at both ends. Then the unimaginable happened: I made a mistake. Yet, there was no significant punishment attached to it (or so I thought). With the fear of making a mistake gone, also was the notion of, “Why am I doing all of this?” And that led to another type of spiral—burnout spiral—where you lose motivation and really a zest for anything. It sucks to be caught between being amped up on anxiety for fear of making a mistake or feeling like your soul is dead because you've lost all motivation and drive. 

So why am I talking about this now? The other night, I made a mistake. I prided myself on doing a lot of work over the past several years around letting go of the fear of punishment for making a mistake and the fear of disapproval from those that I care about. I thought I  made good progress but sometimes it takes a mistake to illuminate just how far you still need to go. At first, I took this blunder in stride as I couldn't have prevented the mistake, and I am human (something that I've recognized over the years.) However, the following day I could not stop replaying the incident in my head as if the tape would allow me to “make it better.” And then the internal beating of one’s soul to a pulp begins, so much so that you feel like your chest hurts. I want to say that I rebounded quickly, or told those thoughts to scram, but they lingered for a while. Until I talked to my dad who reminded me that mistakes are just that: mistakes. They are not character flaws, you are not defined by them. You see, a lie that perfectionists will tell themselves is that they “are” their mistake. As if the mistake is an embodiment of who they are at their core. You are only as good as your last accomplishment, or your last mistake. Choose the former, not the latter. To see yourself as a walking flaw, if you dare make a mistake, is nauseating. 

And where does all of this lead me? Well to the Bible of course :) It always does. Being so stricken with anxiety and swirling thoughts from having made this mistake, I tried to find an outlet on my phone. That’s when a handy Bible verse on legalism showed up. This reminded me of why Christ came: to do away with these perfectionistic laws that nobody could maintain, because, dare I say it, nobody is perfect. We may strive, we may try, but we are not perfect. And why? Because each person's view of perfection is different and you are always trying to peg yourself to that view— it's a never-ending moving target. 

What has Christ taught me? Well, that we are perfectly imperfect and that's okay. In fact, it is by design. Without mistakes, we don't learn. How can you possibly evolve if you never allow yourself to fail, to do something “wrong” and not be so hyper-focused on making a mistake that you miss the bigger picture of life? When I don't scrutinize myself for the mistakes that I make and just embrace who I am, flaws and all, I can breathe so much easier. Life is better. Life feels more present and complete. 

So if you are also a recovering perfectionist, or if anything that I've said in these posts resonates with you, you are not alone. And it is okay to fall, it's okay to fail, and it's okay to not be perfect. It's okay to let go and breathe. It's not easy but you can get there, one mistake at a time :)