Perhaps you’ve got to write a report for work. You can do 80% of it fast, and well. But then the final bit drags and, the more you look at it, the worse it feels. You start rewriting sentences you’ve already written, 3, 4, 10 times. The hours drag on but the finish line never gets closer.
Or you start something new. It feels fresh and exciting, but after an hour or two, maybe a day, you’ve discovered that you’re not a natural talent. To get better at this thing will take practice. You will have to, at least temporarily, be bad. You might know, in your mind, that that is OK. We’ve all got to start somewhere. But in your body perhaps it feels uncomfortable, embarrassing, cringe.
Perfectionism often starts as high standards, a drive towards excellence. It probably has served you well, maybe even very well up to this point. But perhaps now, your high standards seem less like an ideal and more like a baseline or the price of entry. Perhaps it no longer feels possible to do something at which you are not immediately perfect. I’m wondering if you’ve stopped doing very much at all.
Life — real, adult life — is messy. Crisp, white shirts get stained with coffee. Reports are littered with typos. Deadlines get missed. To err is human, but when was the last time that felt possible for you?
Perfectionism is when the drive to be the best out-competes the drive to thrive. It’s when you may or may not be successful, but you are rarely content.
Perfectionism is a skill you learned
Life was simpler when you were a kid. It may or may not have been easier.
Your homework was marked and graded, exams too. Perhaps you were (or weren’t) selected for a sports team. Perhaps you played a (graded) instrument. Most of what you produced was marked and assessed. And this might have been very good for you. Your parents might have delighted in your success. They might have also demanded it.
Now, things are not so simple.
Your output at work isn’t given anything as clean and objective as a grade. It probably needs the approval of a boss, or bosses, whose whims and tastes may vary. The voice inside your head that is saying “this isn’t very good” rarely has the reassurance of an A grade. And so it might push you to be better, always better.
And on top of everything, you have bills to pay, friends to see, perhaps kids to look after.
Your perfectionism in childhood might have been an asset in so many ways. In adulthood, it must be exhausting.
The cost of perfectionism
The competing needs of adult life are endless. We have bills, cooking, cleaning, exercise, relationships of all kinds. And those are just the tasks. We can have fun too. Indeed, we’re supposed to, surely.
But the trap of perfectionism is that often it stops that. Your attention is drawn towards the things that you are judged on. But that crowds out everything else.
And that judge can be internal too. Perhaps the dinner needs to be perfect and so you spend so long preparing it that you don’t enjoy it when it’s time to eat. Or your house is spotless, and every misplaced shoe gives you a sense of overwhelming anxiety.
Perhaps your body is what is perfect. And every unaccounted macro makes you feel too small or too big. Every input must be scrutinised. But somewhere along the way, your body stopped being something for pleasure, sex, fun.
If perfectionism stops you from enjoying the magic of the life you have created. If it is pushing you further towards a finish line that is forever out of reach. If your life has become a to-do list, it might be time to talk about it.
Perfectionism and anxiety
Perfectionism and anxiety are often bedfellows, that feed off each other in ways that are not always helpful. The sight of an imperfect thing, whatever it is, can trigger that feeling of anxiety, whatever that is for you. A tightness in the chest, a panicking feeling. Then, perhaps the anxiety moves into the mind. Perhaps those old voices get activated about consequences. This report is going to get me in trouble. I’m going to get sacked.
Every perceived slip-up becomes a disaster. Nothing is allowed to slip through the cracks. Mistakes are not possible.
Anxiety can take you out of the present, which may or may not be pleasant, and into a future which definitely isn’t. Perfectionism can do a similar trick. In your mind, it might be the eternal fly in the ointment. Perhaps you do something, or create something wonderful, but there’s a voice in your head that is saying that it’s not good enough.
Perfectionism and ADHD
If you have ADHD, your experience of perfectionism might be more intense. The need to do something perfectly becomes all-encompassing. Perhaps, too, past (perceived) failures are coming into your head. This project, whatever it is, becomes do-or-die. It all rests on this.
And then the pressure starts to build. Your executive function starts to slip, and you put off doing it until the last minute. There’s no time then so the pressure ratchets up. Perhaps you need to mask to tell the world that you’re functioning just fine. But the effort of doing that takes a toll too. Your engines are now not just firing on all cylinders, they are falling off their mounts. The panic rises, and you work harder and more intensely. Soon, you’re burnt out.
It’s over. It collapses. Then you start again.
Perfectionism in relationships
The desire to be perfect no doubt works wonders in relationships, at least in the beginning. The outfits look great, you are charming, amenable. People probably like spending time with you because you plan the best parties, you make sure everyone is happy. But perfectionism hides the parts of you that are not so great, the parts of you that make you messy and soft.
Perfectionism masks what makes you human.
In relationships, perfectionism is people-pleasing. It creates a wall of invulnerability between you and the people you love. They don’t need the gold-star, A+ version of you. They need the messy version. The soft one.
Overcoming perfectionism
I work a lot with people who abandon themselves to others’ needs. The people I work with put themselves aside, again and again and in different ways, in order to make life easier for other people. Perfectionism is part of this because you abandon your life, a sense of relaxation, your free time, in order to make the report better, or the dinner more perfect or whatever it is. What is important is other people’s experiences and feelings, not yours. In therapy, we explore what this might be about. And we’ll ask questions about what it is like to assert your own needs and why it is a struggle.
Perfectionism is a skill you learned. And I don’t want you to unlearn it. Your desire for excellence has got you where you are. It is wonderful, in its own way. But it’s time to learn another skill, how to be messy.
Messiness allows you to say “this will do” or “I’ve done enough now”. It is about permission to give yourself a break and enjoy your life.
There are times in life for perfectionism. If something is important, you should pour your heart and soul into it.
And there are times in life where you can let yourself go. Indeed, sometimes, you have to.
This will not be easy. But every time you notice yourself pushing yourself harder, we’ll explore that. We’ll explore how it feels and what the opposite might feel like, too.
I think of perfectionism as a game. Every day, you can choose to phone it in, whether that’s in work or at home. You are invited to cut corners. Find something and then do it just OK. Be lazy. There are 1,000 ways you can experiment with being imperfect. Here are a few:
- Send the report/email/project after 3 edits. Notice if you want to do a fourth.
- Choose one thing today that doesn’t matter and spend 10 minutes on it, maybe 5.
- Take up a new hobby and commit to it for 3 months, even if you suck.
- Choose one thing you’re going to pour your heart and soul into.
I hope you’ll find some of this liberating.
Even, maybe, fun?
If you’d like to explore what this might look like, you can book a free 15 minute call. No obligation, just a chance to get a sense of me.