*To listen to an audio-recorded narration of this blog post, click here.*
“Sit up straight, you’re hunching again.”
“Is that an A? Why wasn’t it an A+?”
“Your shirt is too tight. I can see your tummy through that.”
“You came in second? You should’ve worked harder to get first.”
“Why can’t you listen the first time I say something?”
“Why can’t you do anything right?”
I’ve grown to forgive my parents, but they were so hard on me and their standards were so high. Everything had to be done a certain way - the RIGHT way, the BEST way - and any flaw or shortcoming was my fault, another thing that I needed to work on to do better. Nothing short of perfection was worth recognition, and as a kid who so desperately wanted to be seen and recognized by her parents, I did everything I could to reach that standard, even when it felt nearly impossible to reach.
Eventually, my parents’ voices became my inner voice, and their standard of perfection became my standard of perfection. Nothing I did ever felt good enough, and I became a master of self-criticism and self-doubt. The funny thing about perfectionism though, is that it has this sneaky way of making things look great from the outside.
By the time I was in my 20s, I was working hard at my new job, just at the brink of another promotion, and pursuing a PhD while working full-time. On paper, my life looked ambitious and so put together. “Wow, that’s impressive”, people would say.
But as I kept piling more and more on my plate and chasing after a dream and a standard that never felt good enough, I really started to deteriorate inside. Everything started to shut down on me - mentally and physically - and eventually, I just couldn’t keep up with it anymore.
It’s now been eight years since that momentous day that I decided to quit everything, and a lot has happened since.
I struggled (and still struggle) with my health. Lots of doctors appointments and still no concrete answers.
I started calligraphy and picked up painting again. It didn’t come as naturally to me as I thought it would.
I had my first kid, and then my second. I never felt more lost or inadequate in my life, especially during those first few years.
I attempted to start and grow a creative business, several times. I failed and found myself at a standstill for many years.
My parents often reminded me that I was their biggest disappointment. Their words have lost their sting, but it still hurts sometimes.
I look back on all the things that I experienced these last few years, and I can tell you full-heartedly that everything was far from perfect. I felt so out of control, made lots of mistakes, fell back on so many commitments, and barely reached any of the goals that I had set out for. The old me would’ve labeled all those things as failures, but now I know that every hurdle along the way gave me the chance to heal from a lifetime of toxic perfectionism.
In this upcoming blog series, I hope to unravel some of the lessons I’ve learned as a recovering perfectionist, and I hope by sharing my experiences, it can help others who are on a similar path of healing and recovery.
Some of the things that I plan to talk about include:
Learning to let go of circumstances that are out of our control
Learning to be flexible and being open to new ways of doing things
Quieting the inner critic and practicing self-love
Focusing more on the process and less on the results
In the meantime, I wanted to share some books that have helped me along the way that you might want to check out:
How to be an Imperfectionist by Stephen Guise
The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown
The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron
What Happened to You? by Bruce D. Perry and Oprah Winfrey
I hope you’ll enjoy this new blog series. I’m excited to share more.
Wow, I relate to this so much - my upbringing was similar. Perfectionism has held me back from starting new endeavors. Feeling the need to master everything before starting has prevented me from starting at all. I’m learning to embrace imperfection and understand that progress and learning from failure (I hate it, lol) are more important than striving for perfection.