On Being a Perfectionist

Looking for “Perfect”

As a kid, I remember worrying about whether my socks matched my outfit perfectly and whether my shoes were just right for my outfit. As a teenager plagued with the usual zits, I wanted perfect skin. I can recall fretting for hours about all these things and more and thinking that if only X would happen, then my life would be perfect.

As human beings bombarded by cultural and societal norms, we tend to look for perfection in everything. The perfect weight. The perfect body. The perfect diet. The perfect work-life balance.

And some of us, simply by nature, tend toward the perfectionist ideal more than others.

As I started writing this blog post, the perfectionist in me struck again. In fact, this wasn’t the topic I originally set out to write about, but the other topic wasn’t working—the words weren’t coming out perfectly. I started thinking about why—what was I getting stuck on?—and that’s when this topic emerged instead.

The Problem with “Perfect”

Perfectionism has stalked me throughout my life, sometimes hiding in the shadows and sometimes confronting me straight out with negative thoughts, things like “You suck, so you should just quit.” With those thoughts come self-doubt and self-criticism, sometimes to the extreme. Being a perfectionist–or striving to be–can exacerbate anxiety or panic.

As a teacher, I sometimes spent hours on one class period’s lesson plans or creating the perfect assignment (complete with a perfect assignment sheet) or the perfect assessment for my students. Yet I always told my students on the first day of class that I didn’t expect them to produce perfect work—I expected to see improvement, but not perfection. A kind of double standard, yes?

I’ve struggled in relationships, too—how to be the perfect friend or how to be the perfect partner. Yet I don’t expect perfection from others the way I expect it from myself. I readily accept others’ imperfections, just not my own. In some cases, though, it’s really not about being perfect or expecting perfection; instead, it’s about having standards and sticking to them—expecting to be treated respectfully, for example, and, likewise, treating others respectfully.

And now, as I am working on my MFA thesis, a collection of short stories, most of which have been workshopped and revised countless times, I find myself being a perfectionist–seeking perfection–again. And some days it’s downright agonizing.

All my life, I’ve striven for perfection, but I have learned through the years that perfection is often (maybe always?) unrealistic. Overrated even. 

What Is “Perfect”?

What does it mean for something (or someone) to be perfect? According to Merriam-Webster, one definition of perfect is “being entirely without fault or defect: flawless.” Another definition, though, is “satisfying all requirements: accurate.” As I see it, those are two very different definitions, and that distinction is important. Isn’t accuracy much more attainable than flawlessness?

What I’ve Learned

In regards to being a perfectionist, I’ve learned (and continue to learn) to stand up for myself, to tell those perfectionist thoughts where to go. And I don’t always say it in the most perfect way.

Perfectionism has its benefits, but it clearly has a lot of disadvantages, too—mostly in that it can make a person unhappy by obsessively focusing on what’s not right instead of on what is. In many cases, there’s no reason for the person to be dissatisfied or discontent. To that end, here are a few of the lessons that I’ve learned about perfection:

1. Do the best you can (at that moment).

I was taught a strong work ethic—to always do the best I can, to not let others down. Those are good tenets, but they can also contribute to negative thoughts. The best you’re able to do ever is not always the same as the best you’re able to do at one specific point in time, so it’s important to look at that aspect of perfectionism in context.

When I was teaching, there were a lot of times when my lesson plans and class activities could have been better; but for the time I had, for the energy I had, and for the consideration of my own sanity, they were the best I could do at that moment; and usually that was good enough. If a well-planned activity flopped (which happened on occasion), I learned from my mistakes and knew I could do better the next time.

Sometimes the best you can do at one moment in time is not really the best you can do if you had limitless time and energy and no other responsibilities; putting your best effort in at one point of time often has to suffice, even if that effort is half-assed. Every day when I walked into a classroom, my goal was to respect my students—to show them that I cared about them—and hope that they learned something. If I didn’t teach the subject matter in the most perfect way, if I didn’t engage the students in the most appealing way, at least I did the best I could—right then, at that moment in time—and that’s the important thing.

[Edit: The below paragraph is an update to this blog post; updated on 8-19-20.]

When I originally wrote this post, I was working on my MFA thesis. I’ve since finished it, submitted it, and graduated. It’s been over a year, in fact, and often feels like much longer. My thesis was not perfect, but it was the best I could do at that point in time, with what I knew and the time I had. I learned much from my MFA program and am now in the slow process of reworking (or discarding) the stories from my thesis and submitting them to journals. So much changes in a year, and that includes our perfectionist ideals. My thesis as it stands at this current moment may not be my best work, but it was the best I could do at the point of time when it was due. This discrepancy (of what works at one moment versus what works at a different moment) can be difficult to accept–it is the bane of being a perfectionist.

2. Let go (of the less important things).

I still like to look my best, just as I did when I was much younger; but I also know that some things aren’t that important. If my socks don’t match my outfit, it’s certainly not the end of the world. In fact, sometimes I like to experiment with not matching—to do something daring, creative. To be innovative. That way, any imperfections look planned and intended.

When someone sends me an email, my perfectionist self wants to email back immediately, and I want my response to be witty and to express smart sentiments. But most emailed replies don’t have to be thought out so well. Remember the two different definitions of perfect. If you respond accurately, that’s important; it doesn’t have to be said in the perfect way. If it’s not a professional communication (e.g., an email to a client), it can be simple. The receiver won’t usually care how witty the response is, as long as any questions or pertinent messages have been addressed in a timely manner. And “timely” doesn’t have to mean immediately. It could be the next day, maybe even later (depending on the people involved and the context of the situation).

[Edit: The below paragraph is an update to this blog post; updated on 8-19-20.]

In June, I had a short story published. There was one little thing that bothered me about the story–that grated at the perfectionist in me–but I couldn’t figure out how to change it. A few weeks ago, it finally hit me; there’s one word I want to change. One word! A small word, in fact–one that most people wouldn’t even notice, yet I obsessed about it. Similarly, a friend of mine was recently fretting about a small error he found right after sending his dissertation for printing. The fact is that in a large (300-plus-page) document such as a dissertation, there likely will be small errors. We are human. We have to let go of those little things–the things most people won’t notice; otherwise, we can make ourselves crazy.

3. Remember what matters (to you).

All of us have different priorities. My current professional priorities include delivering quality and error-free work to my clients. Proofreading is an area where being a perfectionist is handy, where it’s worth my time to strive for perfect. My current academic priorities include working on my MFA thesis and doing the best I can on it—the best I can do at this point in time. On April 1, when I turn in my first draft, it won’t be perfect; but it’s important to me to do the best I can on it inasmuch as my energy level and time will allow.

It’s also important to me to take time to reach out to friends and family and to spend time with my senior dog. Once I’ve made a mental note of what is important to me, it’s easier for me to spend less time on the things that aren’t as important to me, and those are the times when I can tell Perfectionism (personified, a capital P) to step off, let me be, because I know what matters to me.

4. Breathe. Relax. De-stress.

In the past couple of months, I’ve gotten into a routine where I get up in the morning and just take deep breaths, stretch, and name (out loud) three things I’m grateful for. I do something similar at night before bed, too. It helps me to put life in perspective and to start and end my day relaxed. Perspective is important. We need air to breathe, and we need to breathe to live.

We all have different ways of relaxing. For some, it’s yoga. What helps me the most is exercising on a daily or almost-daily basis. It has to be exercise in which I work up a sweat. I especially love to run, and it generally keeps everyday anxiety at bay, too. By taking the time to breathe, to relax, or to exercise in a way that makes me focus on my breathing, I can think more clearly, which then helps me understand that whether or not my desk is a mess is inconsequential. I may not like a messy desk (and I don’t!), but it doesn’t have to be perfect right now, today. Spending time with family may be more important right now, today. Writing in my journal might be more important. Running on the treadmill might be more important. Perspective.

5. Believe in yourself. You’ve got this.

It’s cliché, yes. But here’s the thing. I’m not just a proofreader and an editor. I’m a writer. A creative writer. And I’m an artist. And almost nothing is more deflating to a creative person’s sense of self than when they get negative feedback on something they’ve created, especially if it’s something they feel—or felt—really good about. As I’m working on my MFA thesis and revising stories and reading over the feedback I’ve received on multiple drafts, I often find myself doubting my ability.

Self-doubt can be infectious. I find myself thinking: If someone doesn’t like this story, then they probably won’t like any of my stories. It could be true, but most likely it’s not. Perception—how we perceive others and how we perceive ourselves—is a powerful thing. Some of us are highly influenced by others’ perceptions. I’ve learned, though, that those perceptions are merely that. They are only one person’s way of seeing something. They are not truth in the formal sense of the word. So, what you have to do—and what I have to do—is focus on what I do well and know that tomorrow is another day, that there will be new ideas springing forth (there always are). Everything will be new. I can do it. I know I can. You can, too.

It takes a combination of all these “rules” to see perfectionism for what it really is: a myth. Everybody’s idea of “perfect” is different. The word itself is imperfect—it doesn’t accurately describe what we’re striving for.

What does this have to do with writing?

What does all this have to do with writing? The answer: everything. A lot of writers struggle with an ideal, real or imagined. A lot (maybe most?) of the best writers have suffered from self-doubt and feelings of failure and inadequacy. Those feelings can help us strive for better; they can help us to actually do better, be better. But those thoughts can also be detrimental, so you have to balance yourself. If you’re a perfectionist, find a way to use it to your advantage, and don’t let it consume you. And write on!

And remember: You don’t have to write alone. Contact me for writing, editing, or proofreading services. 

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[Post updated on 8-19-20 by the author.]