untangling myself from perfectionism
flexibility came up in a bodytalk session earlier this month. as i thought about flexibility, i suddenly knew why i have trouble with it.
when i think about flexibility, i think about changing directions. if i were to change directions, it feels like i would be saying (admitting) that what i was doing before didn't work.
it's hard for me to do that. (translation: mostly, i can't. yet.)
i have to be the right thing. i have to do the right thing. i have to be and do perfectly. if (or when) i don't, i run the risk of experiencing shame, guilt, judgment, the loss of love & approval. i can't think of anything worse.
of course, it's impossible to be and do everything (or anything) perfectly, but that doesn't really matter. i am still convinced it's necessary. i am still convinced that when i do experience shame (or guilt or judgment or the loss of love & approval), it wouldn't have happened if i were only perfect or could do things perfectly.
when i realized this, it struck me as interesting that i've been able to try so many things related to health & wellness, an area in which i am most certainly a tryer-of-things.
do you know why i can?
it's because i don't tell people. or i pass it off as a joke – something that i'm doing for fun, something that doesn't mean anything. or i quit easily and early – i don't see anything through. that way, no one will ever know that it mattered, and the only one who will know that i failed is me. (me knowing is bad enough, but it's still better than having other people know.)
this pattern is also why i wound up with – in one example – a degree in computer science. i realized after i started that it wasn't the right thing, but i didn't know what that right thing was so i couldn't do anything.
if i am going to change directions, i can only change to the most perfect thing. the thing that is so absolutely perfect in every way that no one will be able to see that i failed at the other thing because they will be blinded by the sheer perfection of the new thing. in other words, i can only change to a thing so perfect that it doesn't even exist.
goodness. it amazes me that i was able to quit my job at all. and it also explains why i like to say that "i quit my job to try out self-employment".
ah, perfectionism, you harsh mistress. i keep finding you buried deeper and deeper and deeper.
“Perfectionism is not the quest for the best. It is a pursuit of the worst in ourselves, the part that tells us that nothing we do will ever be good enough — that we should try again.”
Julia Cameron
Sigh!
Don’t confuse “being” with “striving to be”.
Perfection is an ambition , not an end.
And flexibility is the ability to bend, not necessarily change direction.
May you be flexible as you strive to reach your ambition.
Peace.
i seem to be at the opposite end. but
this really is interesting as it ialways
is over here.
when i hear flexiblity – i immediately picture myself
on the floor durning exercise trying to touch my nose
to me knees.
“because I don’t tell people” — you are in my head again! I was just thinking about that very topic, well, in a slightly different context, last week. I was thinking about why *I* don’t tell people about stuff I am doing, and it’s similar– because I don’t want to hear their opinions or judgment about it. I am so glad you are writing this stuff.
Sending you much love and light Elizabeth.
i adored my father. he died suddenly when i was 17. he was the rock, but he was also the strict disciplinarian that demanded perfection. due to his profession, we moved every year, on occasion twice in one year. i became a chameleon, to fit in, to adapt, to be perfect. even when he was gone i was still the perfect daughter, wife, widow. finally i am giving myself the gift of imperfection. say those words and slowly accept the gift. xo
@tammy: what a lovely gift to give yourself. (i’m reading the gifts of imperfection by brene brown at the moment, so your message is lovely & timely.)
@stephanie: <3
@darcy: yes! ditto. i think about that aspect of telling people often.
@kelly: you made me chuckle because that is the first thing i think of too. (except in this one moment related to my life, apparently.) i picture myself trying so hard to touch my toes and dangling my arms madly and not getting anywhere near them. i am hopeful that if i stick with yoga, maybe when i am 90 it will happen easily. 😉
@kat: sigh, indeed. reading similar things in the brene brown book.
@jerry: i imagine there to be a spectrum with healthy striving for perfection at one end and perfectionism at the other. i am aiming for the other end.
Holy cow–you really must have written this about me. Sorry to hear someone else has to deal with this too…. sigh.
I find Wild Geese by Mary Oliver is such a good reminder when thoughts of perfectionism creep in.
I read somewhere (Anne Lamott, maybe?) that perfectionism is the highest form of self hatred. That really struck me and shook me up and incited me work on dropping it like a hot potato.
“me knowing is bad enough, but it’s still better than having other people know”
this, i so get. i love how you put your finger on it, lib!
Oh…I can relate to this too! Perfectionism and I go way back, back to childhood even. It’s been like a ghost haunting me most of my life. It is only in recent years that I’ve been letting it go, bending, being flexible, giving myself permission to release the snare of perfectionism and come home to the real me to release. Perfectionism is like a poison we willing take, it gets addictive, and it can hinder our real growth. It’s OK to not be sure, to not know what’s next… but it’s OK to break the chain to set yourself free. :o) ((HUGS))
“it’s because i don’t tell people. or i pass it off as a joke – something that i’m doing for fun, something that doesn’t mean anything. ” Oh my god, this whole paragraph, I do it too. I was halfway through my yoga training before I was able to tell some people that I really love about it. And longer still before I was able to confess that it wasn’t just a lark.
Peace to you – I admire your courage. And I hope when it comes time to finally quit my job, I can actually do it (faking my own death or disappearance seems a terribly morbid, but entirely plausible option!!)
You are not alone in these thoughts!
It’s a monster, isn’t it? And it keeps us from so many wonderful experiences.
Like Brooke said…you definitely are not alone.
My sister is a fabulous floral artist. Skipping what that may mean 😉 I took a class in flower arranging – just to try. And I discovered – to my delight and the instructor’s horror – that not only was I absolutely terrible at it, but I hated it! I had so much fun finding this out (the poor teacher was concerned that I was upset – but I was truely delighted.)
It was such a relief. I could let it go and find some other activity that worked for me and I was good at or at the very least, loved doing. And I learned more about what my sister does – and have a much greater appreciation for that.
I try to remember this – the experimenting and not having to be good (or perfect) at something.
I am not so good at remembering 😉 but this experiment in life is an adventure.
p.s. Kat’s Julia Cameron quote made me gasp.