The Perfectionist Paradox

So I was listening to a podcast last night (link below, all credit due to Stuff Mom Never Told You) on my drive home from an interview. The interview went great. The interviewer essentially told me I had the job subject to some red tape. But it was in Northern Indiana. Now, there's nothing wrong with Northern Indiana, but I'm from Southern Indiana. The furthest north that I've lived was Indianapolis, which is smack in the middle of the state. And when living in Indy, I mainly stayed on the south side of the City. I just felt more comfortable there.  Regardless, the podcast didn't have anything to do with geography, but it addressed the compulsion of perfectionism.

It was as if I was driving through a City that felt like home to me (Indy) while hearing a podcast describing me to a T. It contained some startling revelations, and yet explained so very much.

When I was younger, I was super critical of my sister's girlfriend. My mom, a true mom, defended my reaction and told her, "She's very hard on herself...that's why she's so hard on others. She expects everyone else to live up to the standards she sets for herself." She was right, but at the time that just made me justified in my indignation.

Some of the hallmarks of Perfectionism are:

1. The drive to seem perfect.
2. Inside you feel like a failure.
3. People won't love me if I'm not perfect.
4. Everyone else should have to be as perfect as me.
5. Anyone who doesn't try as hard to be perfect causes anger in that I feel that it's unfair that someone else doesn't have to try and/or be perfect.
6. Anxiety over making mistakes, even small ones.
7. Feeling humiliated anytime someone points out the tiniest flaw.
8. Procrastination! (seriously dude...I can't start something until the pressure is on because I can't do it until I have to out of fear of screwing it up)

When I was growing up, I was very particular about certain things. I've never liked being picked on, but I always assumed it was about me being bullied as a child. However, now I wonder if it's related to the perfectionist issue...or perhaps the bullying causes some of the perfectism. It's a paradox. I had a very specific routine as a child. I made my own routine, and my own organization in my bedroom. If someone moved something in room, or put something back in the wrong place, or disrupted the routine I made, I would become very upset. For instance, we only had one bathroom for three women in my house. It was fine, we made it work. However...I had to do all of my hair and makeup stuff in my bedroom. So I had an armoire for jewelry, a Sassaby for makeup, and a glass table for all of my hair products. Every item had a very specific place. I put everything back in the same place every time. You could tell, because the dust would settle and when you moved a bottle, there was a clear, clean glass ring where the bottle sat. If something was missing when I came home, I would become agitated. 

Another thing I started when I was a sixth grader--I began laying out the next day's outfit the night before. Why? Because I was always late to school because I spent too much time stressing about the perfect outfit. So I shifted that time to the night so it wouldn't make me late. In high school, I started wearing a lot of makeup, and I painted my fingernails every single night. Every day brought a different color. I was obsessed with my image back then. I was told I was ugly (I wasn't, but that's a different issue), so I tried so hard to make myself attractive with makeup, fingernails, and clothing. I was so desperate for people to love me and I thought that was the only way to make it happen.

However, in trying so hard to be perfect, I spent a lot of time alienating the same people I wanted to love me. I didn't see what I was doing, but I was so focused on perfection and being the perfect friend/girlfriend/wife that I didn't see the insanely high standards I was forcing on my loved ones. It's a miracle I still have any friends left. It's seriously a credit to those people for loving me even though I was an unfair asshole. I used to be so angry at "friends" that cut me loose. I now realize they were just putting themselves first, like I have done the past few years. I can't handle other peoples' issues when I have my own to deal with. I used to do that all the time. I put myself second, I put fixing them and taking care of them first. No more. And for those of you who cut me loose, I get it. I am no longer angry. The Friend Graveyard exists for a reason.

It's sad to me that I spent the last 36 years pushing people away when I just wanted to pull them closer, but at least I am now learning from that mistake. That said, I am now able to look back on the last 10 years with a better perspective. When my marriage failed in 2011, I felt like I had personally failed at being perfect. And as a result, I was openly humiliated and exposed as being imperfect. At that point, I decided I didn't have to try to be perfect anymore. In the succeeding 6 years, I essentially tanked my legal career (though I'm making a comeback now), I put on 40 lbs., and I began drinking heavily. Now, don't worry, I'm not chemically dependent (I've stopped for long periods several times and have no withdrawal symptoms).  However, all of these things are a result of me feeling like a failure on the whole and as a result, I quit trying to do everything.

Recently, though, I've been feeling a drive to climb back out of the hole I've dug. I know I'm not perfect, but maybe I'm finally realizing and accepting that I don't have to be perfect for people to love me. Yes--several people have left me in the past several years. However, I think those people were never really my friends. They didn't know me, or they didn't love me, or most likely both. They loved who I pretended to be. But this is me. And a friend this past weekend said  she loves me for me. That she loves me no matter what and even because of my flaws. She understands me. She knows I'm an oddball, but she loves me. That statement means the world to me.

I guess the point of this post is twofold:

1. I now realize that the right people will love me for me...even if I'm 40 lbs overweight, or I have a midlife crisis and go work for Macy's, or I drink a crap-ton of wine. These things aren't inherently bad. I don't need to be perfect to be loved.
2. I apologize to anyone who I ever made feel like scum because they cancelled on me, or didn't give 110% at a basketball game, or displayed that they were simply a human.

I hope someone benefits from this post. I know I wrote it to vent, but I do hope that my internal torment can at least benefit someone else. It's part of who I am--always wanting to help others. I guess that's why I am such a sucker for a lost cause. But if I don't take up that cause, who will? Doing that kind of work means I can wake up feeling like I make a contribution to the world. If I can save a child, isn't that worth every ounce of my time?


http://www.stuffmomnevertoldyou.com/podcasts/little-miss-perfect.htm