We Don’t Have To Be Perfect.
I spent the first decades of my life thinking I had to be perfect. In my youth it was straight As, winning piano competitions, church every Sunday and being the oh so perfect girl in everything I did and said.
Most women are trained from our earliest years that we have to be “good girls.” Perfection is simply another word for it. Some of us, like me, were trained much more harshly with abuse. Some were trained by the norms and pressures of our culture by those around us. We were all trained to some degree.
The quest for perfection dominated my adult life. I didn't even realize until late in life that my drive for perfection was bordering on insanity.
I did nearly drive myself crazy, along with everyone else around me. In business every single detail had to be perfect before I would launch a client product or reposition a business. The last 10% darned near killed us all. The reality? No one cared about those final touches, except me.
I was brutal to myself. Nothing was ever good enough no matter how hard I ran. Every thought, every action was driven by my obsessive need to be perfect and to be loved for that perfection.
Killing Ourselves to Be Perfect
I look back now and literally shudder. I think about the pressure I put on myself and I get nauseous. I hear the same from so many women. Never ever good enough, even when we’re nailing every goal, delivering at a level of excellence.
Here’s how nuts I was.
I timed myself when I was putting on makeup. I checked every action to make sure I was as efficient as possible. Every time I stepped up to the mirror, I found every imperfection, sought them out. I even looked at my watch before I started. I’d stand here and criticize myself when I picked up the eyebrow brush before I applied the color. Heaven help me.
My home was always ready for the photo shoot. It had to be perfect, all the time. As if Architectural Digest was showing up any minute. Kitchen counters were scrubbed at least 3 times a day. No hair or dirt on the carpet, even with a furry Keeshond. I stayed up til the wee hours creating perfection for the next day.
I was Superwoman. I did it all. I worked 100 hour weeks for clients even though they only paid me for 40. I was proud of the fact I was so exhausted I couldn’t move. I defined myself by delivering more than anyone ever.
In my personal life I was bigger than life, I did indeed save a few lives, literally and figuratively. I helped every needy cause or person I met along the way. I picked up every ball I could find for anyone and everyone, and then wondered how they could use and then abuse me. I kept doing the same things, like a gerbil on a wheel; head up, tail up, running as fast I can to who knows where.
Finally, perfection took its toll. I crashed with a burned out HPA axis and broken body.
Yes, I am the burnout poster gal you hear about….thanks to my impossible quest for perfection.
Wait. Can I Just Be Me?
I'm learning to be imperfect. To be just plain me, in the moment, listening to how I feel and following my own guidance.
Letting go of my perfection was disturbing at first. Leaving dishes in the sink overnight? My automatic pilot kept steering me toward the kitchen sink. Running out to the grocery for a quick pickup without makeup and hair done? All I could think was that my Mom was turning in her grave. Sitting and doing nothing? I kept looking for pen and paper to capture the list of things I wasn’t doing, while feeling guilty about every single one.
I stuck with it and gradually retrained myself. Today, I'm listening to what’s best for me at the moment. Making myself the priority and welcoming my own unique imperfection into my life.
How did I get here?
I started drawing boundaries on how much of me I give to others. I’m still a work in progress on this one. When I began, every time I drew a boundary for myself, my first thought was that I'm being selfish and unworthy. bad girl. I kept drawing those boundaries, learning to be more conscious of my own reactions.
People will push boundaries. It’s my choice how I respond. I'm learning to prioritize myself, probably for the first time in my life. I still give a lot. I no longer feel the need to be perfect to be accepted.
I'm stopping being my own worst critic. Another work in progress. I catch myself ragging on myself all the time about the most unimportant things. I didn’t spell check my email, beat me now.
I'm focusing on awareness of my incessant self-deprecation. I notice, love myself for my imperfection and keep going. For example, when I'm getting dressed I purposely focus on being sloppy in the bathroom. Although, I have to admit, I still organize my makeup in the order I use it. One step at a time, right?
I honor my fears. I still get a twist in my gut before I face an audience, whether it's to speak, join a podcast or record a video. I feel that twinge now as I write this blog. I'm not good enough. Nothing is interesting. People will see how unworthy I am.
That's when I've learned to be extra kind to myself. No pressure to be perfect in my worthiness. A few deep breaths and I move beyond it. That's my focus; accepting me as I am, laughing, and shifting my learned response rather than beating myself up about anything.
The same boundaries I learned to draw personally became game-changers as I write my upcoming book. Instead of chasing every idea like a headless chicken, I’m focused on my plan. Instead of obsessing over every single word, I draft away with whatever words are flowing.
Now that I’m allowing the concepts to flow freely, the right words come more easily.
I am more and more joyful in my life as I accept the real me; the flawed and regular woman banishing the powerhouse of perfection.
I'm enjoying the simplest of things. Walking around my ranch, breathing as I think about life, not my lists. Meditating deeply without my mind fighting to run lists and think about all the things that distracted me for decades.
Knowing that I’m OK when I choose what’s best for me.
The Simple Truth
We have been trained to believe we have to be perfect, to do it all. It’s why so many women feel like they are one step away from total failure, even when we ARE doing it all.
It’s an impossible standard, created long before any of us were born, and trained into us ever since.
It’s time to recognize that training, and the voices in our heads that push us, as false. Being perfect and doing it all are impossible goals whose time has come.
When we learn to prioritize our needs alongside the needs of those around us, we step into our wisdom and truth.
We don't have to be perfect. We don't have to do it all.
And that's more than enough. It always was.