I was having a conversation with a friend a while back about hosting parties and get-togethers and she told me that she doesn’t do it very often because she likes things to be perfect, which makes it too stressful.
“It’s bad, I know,” she said as she lowered her eyes and took a sip of her drink.
I nodded my head and took a sip of my own drink, unsure of how to respond. It all sounded so familiar. I know what it’s like to obsess over small details that no one will notice, whether it’s the perfect decorations, a well-placed word, or (god forbid) a spelling error. I know because I’m a recovering perfectionist.
It took a very big, very expensive party to clue me into the fact that perfectionism, which I had previously viewed as “high expectations,” was running roughshod over everything I loved.
My wedding was one of the most amazing days of my life. I was euphoric as I walked down the aisle towards Grant, over the moon that so many people I loved traveled to Vancouver to be a part of our union. We had the most fabulous ten piece New Orleans style brass band–thinking about them still brings a ridiculous smile to my face. On that day, nothing could go wrong, my happiness was invincible. It was only after the fact that I felt the need to do an autopsy and uncover the imperfections.
When photos revealed that all of the place-cards had blown over in the wind, my heart sank. Instead of saying, “Whatever, shit happens. So many things went well,” I started to look for the other things that went awry: the bow on the back of my dress that wasn’t supposed to be there, the guest tree that was signed with an illegible, too light pen, the exact number of guests I forgot to hug. I started to nit-pick my (fantastic, love-filled) wedding.
And that was my wake up call. If I could take the most amazing day of my life and strip away the beauty of it by focusing on the small, inconsequential details, what was I doing to the rest of my life?
Perfectionism takes all of your good intentions, skill and potential and aims it in the wrong direction.
It tricks you into thinking you’re just aiming high. People compliment you on your skills. They congratulate you for hitting it out of the park. But you can’t fully enjoy the fruits of your labor because you’re too busy obsessing over that one misplaced word. Or the place cards, I repeat, the place cards at your gorgeous wedding.
As Julia Cameron says, “Perfectionism doesn’t believe in practice shots. It doesn’t believe in improvement…Perfectionism measures our beginner’s work against the finished work of masters.”
You don’t have to be a full-on perfectionist to understand this feeling. Many of us go through periods where we compare ourselves and our work to others, where we feel not quite ‘good enough,’ not as brilliant as the next.
Blogging, if we let it, can be a futile and painful exercise in comparison. It can also be a great way to let go of expectations and put ourselves out there for better or for worse. That is one of the main reasons I started a blog–to let go of the need to be perfect.
While my wedding was the wake up call in my own battle with perfectionism, the moment when I was finally able to see the beauty in imperfection came a bit later.
One gorgeous afternoon last summer, Grant and I were driving through Stanley Park, listening to the new Leonard Cohen CD. As the sun shone through the surrounding pines, the song “Anthem” started to play. I listened to the words and held my breath.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
That’s how the light gets in.
And there it was, both the root and cure, in one simple refrain.
Perfectionism is a closing off, a way of controlling things. It may look pretty and whole on the outside but in reality it is cold, isolated. Dark.
In the past, I wasn’t willing to ask for help. I felt like I had to go it alone.
The perfect daughter, spouse, friend, student, entertainer, gift giver, wedding planner, writer, decorator, listener, idea generator: I tried to be all of these things and more.
Now I focus on progress instead of perfection. I try and I sometimes often fail. But I finally get it: mistakes make things more interesting. (Except for spelling mistakes. Obviously ;)
The cracks let the light in.
Have you given yourself permission to be imperfect?
Related Posts:
Oh, Happy (Wedding) Day
You’re Not Doing It Right
Fail Harder
Tagged: blogging, Imperfection, Leonard Cohen, life, perfectionism, self-help, Wedding Planning, writing
Beautifully put, Rian! I’m a big Julia Cameron fan, too, which I think you already know.
Blogging is SUCH a great way to combat perfectionism (as long as you don’t obsessively compare, like you said), because if you’re posting regularly, you have to just let it go and move on to the next post. One of the best things I learned from The Artist’s Way was to ask, “What next?” instead of “Why me?” “What next?” has become my mantra… I’m asking it of myself right now. The answer, I’m pleased to report, involves pie.
I’m not sure I can condone this pie thing, Jules. What about cake? ;) “What next?”–I love that. The forward motion is the thing. Thanks for sharing your (always spot-on) insights.
I’m still learning to fork over that permission. It’s been a long and ugly fight. Finally recognizing it is a control issues was helpful. It’s also been helpful to realize that no one is as concerned with me as I am myself.
The need to be perfect is usually more for others than myself. I already know I’m a mess, but it’s the hope that everyone else will think I’ve got it together that drives me toward perfection. When I can convince myself, really convince myself, that everyone else is preoccupied with their own lives and selves, I can relax, And maybe sometimes, even make them feel better about themselves in letting my cracks shine.
Thanks for your transparency! I think there is a little, evil perfectionist in all of us. Cheers to fighting the good fight against it!
“It’s also been helpful to realize that no one is as concerned with me as I am myself.” A thousand times yes, Jane. I have no idea why we think others are so focused on our imperfections. Obviously, they’re not. But we put ourselves under that terrible microscope anyway. I hope you can give yourself full permission to be your fantastic, imperfect self. Meanwhile, I’ll be fighting the good fight alongside you.
Yep, perfection=control=denial for me. I received so many critical messages that manifest in perfection, Seeking it is an invitation for being alone, well except with spelling. Lol. You just gave me permission to miss spell.
“Seeking it is an invitation for being alone.” This is so sad, but true. Misspell away, Marsella! I won’t judge.
Loving your post:) I am a work in progress and learning to just be and live with intention instead of perfection. Happy Monday!
Intention vs. perfection–that’s a great way of looking at things.
This post really hit home, Rian. I think I tend to be a perfectionist, as well, and I think it’s a trait that goes hand in hand with my “controlling” tendencies. If I want to get something done right, than dagnabbit, I’ll do it myself. Hosting my sister’s bachelorette party and bridal shower last summer really opened my eyes to how debilitating that line of thinking can be. My sister’s wonderful bridesmaids pitched in so much, and although they did things differently than I would’ve, I can honestly say it was much better than if I had done it myself. I feel like being “controlling” at times is my way of combating the messiness of life. But you’re so right when you describe it as dark and isolated. It’s something I’m working on.
Ahh, Jorie–I can so relate to this. I didn’t let other people help me with wedding planning very much. I told myself that I was doing them a favor by not being a bridezilla and ordering them around. But the truth is I was too used to doing things “my” way. The same goes with party planning–people would offer to bring things over, but I would always say, “No worries, I got it.” This Thanksgiving, I finally gave up on all of that and let people bring whatever they wanted. It’s such a relief (and so much more fun!) to do things in a collaborative spirit. I finally get it, and now hosting things is so much less stressful. I’m glad we’re both learning to give up some of that control. It’s definitely a process.
It’s an odd combination for me. On some things, I really don’t care, and I just let them slip by without a second thought (like schoolwork). But when it comes to things I care about, or things I want to improve on, I sometimes find myself giving up because I try to compare it to those much, much better than me, and it gets daunting.
It’s why I don’t write fiction very often, even though I love it and I know I’m pretty good. I end up comparing it to the likes of Gaiman, Pratchett, Carroll, and the likes.
I’m still working on accepting the fact that I am human, and have flaws.
Best of luck to you in your journey of acceptance, Rian.
That is one of the sneaky things about perfectionism–it picks and chooses, focusing on the things that matter the most to us. People have this misconception that perfectionists are good at everything, or that they’re neat freaks. But we often pay no attention to the things that don’t bother us and focus like a laser on the things that do. I hope you can give yourself permission to try (and sometimes) fail at fiction writing. I know it’s a tough road. But there are a lot of us walking beside you :)
I hate (well sorta) to keep looking at this stroke as a “good” thing, but, truth be told, it dropped my perfectionism down several notches. It did it, not because I can’t do a lot of things, but because I don’t care to anymore. It is so freeing to look at something that is 98% right and go, “Good enough. Time to enjoy.”
I understand. This post hit head on.
Scott
“It is so freeing to look at something that is 98% right and go, “Good enough. Time to enjoy.” Absolutely, Scott. “Good enough” is one of my new mantras. Honestly, I would never finish anything if I kept tweaking it to fit my own unrealistic expectations, so now I just stop when it’s pretty good. Because that is good enough!
I think it’s great that you view your stroke the way you do, Scott. The insights you’ve shared here and on your blog have been really helpful–to me, and I’m sure many others.
That makes it worth it. Would rather know what I know and not have the stroke, but…lol
Good thoughts.
There’s a great book, “The Gifts of Imperfection” by Brene Brown, I found it very helpful as a recovering perfectionist myself. She highlights why so many of us strive for the illusory perception of perfection, to not see the cracks. I have come to view the cracks as what let the light out, the light I am when I let myself be. Eloquently shared, Rian!
Too funny, Kristy–I actually ordered that book last week! Glad to hear you found it helpful. “I have come to view the cracks as what let the light out”–I like that.
She uses the same Leonard Cohen quote as you do in this post. Great minds … :) I look forward to seeing, or perhaps reading, what you glean from “The Gifts of Imperfection”. Be well, Rian!
I’m about halfway through now & I just came across that section–and here I thought I was being so original :) I wasn’t sure I would like it, but I’m really enjoying her voice and her candor. She sure packs a lot of punch into such a small book. I’ll have to let some of it ruminate and maybe a post will come out of it at some point. Thanks for the recommendation!
Oh, I loved this and can so relate! I fixated on my mis-bustled wedding dress in photos and then that spun to other things… it’s like, really? Perfectionism is a big joy stealer. Bravo, to you! I am a recovering perfectionist, too. A-types can get a bad case of this if they are not careful.
Oh, I’m so glad to hear I’m not the only one! I think weddings really bring out the worst in perfectionists. They’re so important and loaded, it’s hard to keep expectations in check. Recovering perfectionists unite :)
A wise friend once told me that “perfection is the enemy of happiness”. She was so so right.
Wise, indeed.
I just wrote the quote on a sticky and posted it to my wall! Thanks to you both.
I am a pragmatic perfectionist I think – I know how I want it to be, but accept that sometimes, it just isn’t. I have managed to pass the perfectionist trait on to only two of my children thank goodness, but it has caused terrible meltdowns. Thank goodness for school teachers, who have taught both children that “I love to see that you’ve made a mistake, because it tells me that you’ve tried” and “‘I can’t’ only means I haven’t tried it yet”. I have certainly learnt more from my mistakes than from the things I did perfectly. Lovely (and timely) post as always.
“I have certainly learnt more from my mistakes than from the things I did perfectly.” This is true for me as well, though I seem to forget it too easily. Being pragmatic seems like a good adaptation. We can’t always get rid of our expectations, but if we can learn to live a bit outside of them, that’s progress.
as Noel Coward said, “if a jobs’ worth doing, it’s worth doing badly”. That’s been good for me.
Interesting read and comments.
After reading the post, it gives such meaning behind what I thought was a rather confusing message about the crack. This describes my mother in so many ways that everyone’s always stressed about her not having fun and as years go by I think the symptoms may have passed onto me.. family genes they say.
Great post ! (:
It’s funny how we can’t see that by stressing out and trying to be too perfect, we’re also stressing our friends and family out. I think a good perspective shift like that can do wonders. Good luck staving off those perfectionist genes.
I realized that when my mother and I worked over night to make preparations for a BBQ on her birthday and in the middle of it I realized she hadn’t eaten yet because she had been busily cleaning up after everyone else. Good example to remember the next time I find myself more than a bit fussy. Thanks!
Thankfully I’m not really a perfectionist. I’m OK with leaving rough edges.
Sometimes my problem is that I go the other way and become indifferent or fail to take pride in what I’ve done well. That’s what I try to watch out for.
As with most things in life, there’s an element of balance.
I’m learning to really like the rough edges (in some things–I’m waiting for that to expand to everything). Ahh, that old tricky balancing act…
so beautifully put, scribbling down some of these lines to put over my desk and remind myself to stop focusing on failures and start enjoying the road of progress. thanks so much for sharing, so needed to read this!
I’m glad you found it useful! Super good luck on your road of progress.
This post rings very close to home for me, Rian. There are places where I can let it go and not worry too much if I get it just exactly right (on my blog, for example, and even as a parent, where I’m learning to forgive myself my inevitable mistakes). But I’ve just ended a relationship because I couldn’t get past my partner’s (inevitable) imperfections, and because I couldn’t accept myself as I was showing up in that relationship. You’re right that perfectionism can run roughshod through our lives.
It took a long time and a healthy dose of therapy for me to finally realize that it’s ok for other people to see my weaknesses or mistakes. No one’s perfect, no matter what front they put up for other people. What I learned is that it was taking so much energy to put on the SHINY that I was missing out on all of the other stuff- the good stuff. The stuff people remember – in a good way.
I found an online article, I think on cracked.com, about ways to make your life less stressful. One of those tips was to not be a perfectionist. The point was made that most of the time people never notice all the extra work you did. If you get just 90% done, that’s all people will care about. That’s all they’re going to see, not the rest that you thought you had to do to make it “perfect”. That’s been a tough lesson for me – I am definitely a recovering perfectionist. I try to find a way to balance that without feeling like I’m not in control of my life.
Rian, I love this post. I can’t say I am a perfectionist, but I do know I work too hard on some things while I see others cut corners and wonder why I can’t be ok with that. But lately, I have started to appreciate the joy in the mess, realizing that’s where life happens, that’s the stuff we remember. I have a photo of my son on his 3rd birthday and he’s got a giant fat lip from falling down 2 days prior. I remember some arguments about his injury and my response being, ‘this will be the year of the fat lip’ and sure enough, we still laugh about it. What is perfect just all blends in and lacks the character, humor, history and sometimes hilarity! I realize too that I relate and feel so much more comfortable with others who approach life this (real) way and it’s always a reminder to let my own guard come down. Great post and perfect quote about the cracks letting in the light, I love that!
Beautiful post, Rian. I can relate, as you’ve seen in my last post :-) Hey, maybe that’s why we’re such good blogging friends! I love the L. Cohen quote: so powerful. I’m glad you’re recovering from perfectionism, if only because it means you’re getting your writing out there for us. And you’re right, perfection is a very dark and lonely place. I wouldn’t want to stay in there for too long, even if it makes me look perfect.
I am reading this with my hair a mess while my 2 month year old swings in a chair. I’m counting the hour down until his bedtime. Becoming a mom has revealed a level of imperfection that I contend with every day. I have hired a part time baby sitter and feel guilty doing this. Yet I feel guilty not having any help and sacrificing the rest of my life in order to do this. What would the perfect mom do? Thanks for this, Rian
Hi B&Z–it’s so great to hear from you! “What would the perfect mom do?” Can you introduce me? Because I’ve never met her! I loved your recent piece on motherhood and I’m so glad you’re giving yourself the gift of time for *you.* Because being a mom certainly can’t mean giving up everything else. If it does, well, I’m running for the hills! ;) I do hope things feel more manageable in time, but I think most moms would agree–you’re doing just fine. Better than fine. <3
a perfectly wonderful post
The perfect post!
I panic sometimes doing something because I want to do everything perfect instead of focus on what is really important to do.
This happens frequently on my blog, I think all the posts have to be perfect even if nobody go read it… and so I don’t write as often…
Keep up the good work even if imperfect!
I can really relate, Ana–I wish you luck as you tackle the perfection monster. P.S. I can tell you from experience that often that last 20% of perfectionistic effort/tweaking goes unnoticed by most readers. People are pretty forgiving, especially when it comes to blogging!
The ever-elusive goal of perfection has led many people, myself included, into a state of stressful madness. The good news is, the older people get the less perfection is the goal. Place cards and faint ink are just minor glitches in the happiness that was your wedding day. If everything had gone smoothly, would you have appreciated the day anymore than you already do? Probably not. Plus, the imperfections make for the best stories. Have you ever tried to listen to a story that was completely by-the-book from the first page? Snooze fest! Imperfections make the world go ’round and I for one am happy to just strive for greatness and not perfection. Excellent post, Rian!
“Have you ever tried to listen to a story that was completely by-the-book from the first page? Snooze fest!” So true, Jessica. I have always been drawn to stories about imperfect people, but it took me a long time to realize that my imperfections are what make my own story more interesting. Duh! I think you’re right about the aging thing as well–you no longer have the time or patience for your own bs as you get older.
My oh my…. how I’ve been fighting this battle. The beauty in mistakes I often miss has really kept me closed. One of the lovely characteristics of Ale is that he can always find a way to make greatness out of imperfections. When I’m wrapped in my own mind and feeling nothing will be right he brings the light in.
Braavo dahling!
That’s something I didn’t know about Ale, but it makes me like him even more :) It’s great (and sometimes vital) to have someone who evens you out. Grant is definitely the yin to my yang most days. He can always make me laugh, even when I’m in super-stress mode. I’m really grateful for that.
Like an onion, layer by tear-jerking layer, I’m slowly peeling back my need for perfectionism. Excellent post.
Hey, I know you are very busy, but check out my post tomorrow as I have nominated you for an award (well, two, actually).
Scott
Will do, Scott! Thanks (in advance)! :)
Hello from Toronto,
Visiting from the BYW class. Did I just see an adorable piglet on your banner?
Gabriela
Hi Gabriela! It is, indeed, a piglet but (unfortunately) not a real one. It’s a Harry Allen pig. Thanks for stopping by!
Hi! I’m stopping by from BYW!
I recognize myself in your friend and you! Well, my former self, at least! I’m a recovering perfectionist as well, thank God! Isn’t it so much more fun?
I absolutely love your blog! You have such an unique way of writing!
On my wedding day… 1) my hair piece started to fall apart so my Mother glued it while on my head, gluing it to my hair. 2) my shoes ended up being too big, so we taped them to my feet. 3) the cadillac taking me from the wedding to the reception wouldn’t turn off, even when the keys were removed. Thankfully it was a great day but I totally understand the review process! We should start a support group, perfectionists anonymous. (I spell checked to make sure that this post was error free :)