Perfection. Many of us have seemingly spent a lifetime chasing it. Some erroneously claim they’ve attained it. None ever have, none ever will. Why? Because perfection is an illusion. It doesn’t exist. It’s not a destination to reach. At best, it’s an ideal, utopian scenario that is as unique as the person who describes it. Even then, should “perfection” be reached, it will be short lived as the bar will move further out of grasp.
Annie Wilson Schaef is credited with stating, “Perfectionism is self-abuse of the highest order.” It’s 100% true. Self-abuse is continually chasing an illusion. You’re more likely to find the end of a rainbow with a dancing leprechaun handing you a pot of gold. Abusive relationships are never healthy and self-abuse has got to be the worst type of abuse. You can’t escape yourself.
You may be thinking that perfection is great for many athletes or companies. After all, a gymnast nailing a routine and getting a perfect score is the pinnacle of success. A company having 100% satisfaction rating is a marketing dream. Wrong, and also wrong. An athlete in a scored event (gymnastics, figure skating, synchronized swimming, cheerleading, diving, etc.) has options for achieving high scores. A gymnast, for example, can nail a simple maneuver. They can also attempt a more difficult skill without sticking the landing or less than ideal form and receive a higher score. An Olympian getting a perfect score by performing a few simple flips instead of pushing their skill set is not “perfect”. They have sold out, they haven’t pushed themselves to be better, they have cheapened the competition. A company that hasn’t tried anything new and worked through growing pains is resting on their laurels. Smart companies know that having a glitch in service from time to time is a chance to show customers how they can resolve an issue. It’s a chance for the company to find new ways of thinking and performing. It’s a chance to persevere and be better. It’s a chance to be remembered for overcoming a flaw.
So why do so many people spend so much time and effort pursuing perfection? Why do they hang their hopes of happiness on an idea? Well, let’s start by blaming our parents – it’s all our parents’ fault! They put the idea of perfection in our heads. Why? Well, their parents did it to them – so it’s all our grandparents’ fault! But wait, where did the grandparents learn this cruel trick? Their parents! For generation after generation, century after century, “perfection” has been the pursuit. For generation after generation, century after century, no one has stopped to ask how we’ll know when perfection has been attained, or even if it’s attainable. We’ve become dogs, spinning in circles, fervently chasing our tails, never realizing we’re just exhausting ourselves in a fruitless effort.
Growing up, I was fortunate enough to excel in many areas – academics, athletics, creativity, socializing, performing arts. While my parents never pushed perfection on me, many of my peers suffered with demanding parents. My parents knew I was extremely competitive and driven, so maybe they felt it best to just stand back and avoid getting in my way. Maybe they were more focused on my older brother who they had in so many extra-curricular activities there was no time for me. Regardless of the reason, I am truly grateful that I never had to live up to their expectations, although my own expectations weren’t quite attainable. In high school, I quickly established myself as ranked #1 in my class. Despite that, it wasn’t good enough. I had a biology teacher have a class give me grief because I blew the curve on a test that many people didn’t pass, but I still argued out the one question I missed because it was worded poorly. Dick move on my part? Not in my opinion. I had a horrendous grade on the previous test and needed this one to bounce back. I was chasing perfection and perfection doesn’t allow for any error. I was often in advanced classes with upper classmen (and no one else in my grade) and felt I had a lot of eyes on me, a lot of people wanting for me to slip up. Adding to the stress was the additional pressure of sports (cross-country, basketball, track, and cheerleading), youth group, and work. It often felt like walking a tightrope without a safety net – there was no room for error, just pressure mounting. It was a relief that I learned at a young age to fake my way through life. To keep a smile with a sheepish “I’m fine” and never let people see me sweat. I figured out how to keep people at arm’s length. Close enough they felt they knew me, far enough they couldn’t see chinks in my armor. They couldn’t see how fragile I had become and how I was barely holding it together. I lived for Friday nights and weekends when I could have some “me time”. Where I could sit in my room and recharge. People wondered what high level degree I would pursue in college. Doctor? I had the brains and the drive. Finance? I was savvy enough to navigate charts and investing. Lawyer? In 6 weeks I went from knowing nothing about debate to taking 3rd in state.
Junior year, I finally cracked. I could have kept up the façade and continued to strive for perfection. I could have continued with the smiles and grace while fighting like hell. I could have done a lot of things, but instead, I threw in the towel. I went to youth group one spring Wednesday night. When I came home, I walked into the living room and told my mom I was done. I was a week shy of spring break and said I didn’t want to be a senior the next year. I was done, I wanted out. I knew my school wouldn’t permit me to graduate early – I had checked early in the school year. To my surprise, my mom pulled me from my school within days and enrolled me in the public school she had refused to send me and my brother to a few years earlier. Some people thought it was a split-second decision to walk away from a senior year. To throw away my GPA and sports, all I had worked so hard for. That I was being impulsive. Honestly, for awhile, I felt like maybe I did make a rash decision. As the decision moved further in my rear-view mirror, I realize that it was the culmination of so many factors. It was the moment I drew the line in the sand and announced I was no longer seeking perfection. That it wasn’t a sustainable lifestyle and I refused to be the person who peaked in high school. I knew I had no intention in selecting a major that would bring glory and large paychecks. I wanted to major in something that would allow me to travel and enjoy life. Something that would allow me to be creative and structured (I’m an even split of left brain/right brain). I had classmates not understand why I wouldn’t want to be a senior and do all the senior things. I knew it wasn’t a decision that could readily be explained because at the end of the day, people can only understand based on their level of perception.
Oddly enough, the gamble to throw in the towel and just start living for me and not for perfection put so much into my path that I would never have been dreamt otherwise. Sure, I went on to graduate from the university I selected in 7th grade with the degree I selected in 6th grade, that was always the plan. But never did I dream I would have had the opportunity to experience half the things I have by simply letting go of the pursuit of perfection and just start enjoying the ride. Sometimes I’m saddened by the realization that I missed so many experiences growing up because I was too busy focusing on perfectionism.
I spent too long chasing perfection, and all I had to show for it was stress, depression, and disappointment. Letting go of perfection, and accepting that some will view this as a let-down, was the greatest gift I’ve given myself. My life is just that, mine. Disappointing others at this point may sound selfish, but it’s really self-preservation. Disappointing myself is the sting that can’t be unstung. So for now, I’m letting go of the idea of perfection. It isn’t sustainable, it isn’t healthy, and it isn’t real. Being a realist has fulfilled me more than perfection could ever claim to do. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve let go of the idea of perfection, I’m not wasting my talents. The saddest thing in life is wasted talent. The second saddest thing in life is wasting your time on perfection.
Of course, some things never change. I still sport the smile when I’m falling down. I still can’t ask for help or someone to listen when I need to process things. But that’s a rambling for another time.
