The frightening imperfect paragraph: Lately, I have been in a funk, or more like a roller-coaster funk. I ride up, eyes filled with hope, only to feel the energy exhale out of me on the way back down. In fact, I haven’t felt like writing at all. Sometimes I don’t feel creative enough or stupid for thinking I can write. But even when I don’t feel like writing, I know how important words on paper are to me. There are a variety of reasons why I have been feeling this way, but this post is not supposed to be a personal diary entry. There. I said it.
Now let’s talk about the destruction of perfectionism or rather how joy and possibility are wrapped in what is imperfect.
Perfectionism is not something that is given to you but rather internally driven by a whole host of fun environmental and psychological factors. Some include the fear of disapproval from others, inadequacy, correlations with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) and general anxiety, rigid parental expectations, and excessive praise for achievements. As a kid, it is difficult to put a name to your tendencies, and maybe it is unnecessary as we develop so that we can just be instead of self-diagnosing and stuffing ourselves in little labeled boxes too early in life.
So, what sparked this idea of perfectionism? For me, it is something I have experienced through my personal history but recently, a broken TV stand. I purchased a new TV stand. Before making the purchase, I did my research, just like any good over analytical perfectionist would. I browsed online, created special folders on my desktop, visited several shops (double trips to some), to eventually settle on having one shipped to me. Two weeks passed, and my oversized box arrived. I opened my oversized box only to find that the leg on the stand was snapped. Oh no… a snapped leg was not part of the plan. A snapped leg does not fit into my schedule. A snapped leg looks bad, let alone is NOT functional! A snapped leg… is ruining my life. You see because now I have a snapped TV leg and anxiety. The TV stand leg could not be snapped because that meant my “getting organized” timeline was pushed back. That meant more browsing. That meant in some way I was falling behind…
I had become a fragile perfect.
I understand that a broken TV leg might sound like some “privileged nonsense,” but the point is not that that disliking a broken TV stand makes you a perfectionist. The point is that perfectionism is less about the broken TV stand and more about our perception of ourselves. To be upset about something that silly and let it bleed into corners of life, reveal a slot machine of underlying emotions; (pull)… insecurity… (pull)… I am not good enough… (pull)… good things don’t happen to me… (pull)… I can’t afford or deserve nice things… (pull)… I’ll never achieve the things I want to achieve…
You see perfectionism has been flowing through my bloodstream, likely since birth. On the Enneagram test I scored a whopping 98% as a “Type 1 Reformer” and 93% as a “Type 4 Individualist” - summed up as a “creative perfectionist.” On paper, this makes me feel like a walking paradox but in spiritual terms, it would make sense. Every human being, regardless of dominant personality traits are a piece of art and perfect art is imperfect.
Truth be told, I once wore my perfectionism as a badge of honor, that I was somehow more prepared than the next person, saw details others could not see or to present to the world that damnit, I had it together, ALL of the time. But who’s fault is that - if anyone’s? Isn’t this how we are scored, tested, challenged through school until working for large companies or owning our own? Don’t we all have certain people or family members who passively reveal when we are most valuable in their eyes? Doesn’t social media train us “you must BE someone in this world” not just you but someone others look at and want to be.
Now, I see my perfectionism through a kaleidoscope lens. The pretty picture is there, and I can see it, but it is limited by different shapes and angles. When you turn a kaleidoscope, the image sits but the colors and frames keep changing or slightly tilt. You can never see the whole picture without some impairment or shadow. But that is what makes it so fascinating and beautiful once you sit and stare at it long enough. Perfectionism is like this. You see the whole picture, but it is unattainable. You are constantly chasing a perfect idea that cannot be captured without some distraction, detour, pause or mishap.
Now, as a seasoned perfectionist, I have experienced real heartbreaks, failures, and setbacks that sting far more than a broken leg on a TV stand. And although I can now appreciate the subtle gifts perfectionism can provide like having the drive and self-awareness to improve or to have the self-discipline to complete what I start… my new goal is to pride myself on the things that I let go of. The time that I learned how to stitch up a hole in the armpit of a shirt instead of buying a crisp new one. The time I spelled “thoroughly” wrong in a final draft for work. The time I couldn’t keep a succulent alive (one of the easiest plants to care for). The time our friendship ended. The time we moved a part and to different cities. The time burnout caused physical stress symptoms. The time I used 1 tsp of paprika instead of a ½… and it still tasted great.
Imperfections breed happiness. Imperfection frees us from personal burdens. It gives us the flexibility to live a little lighter. Perfectionism keeps us closed off. It keeps us obeying made up rules and personal ideas. It leads to procrastination and paralysis. It keeps us limited. Perfectionism tricks us into thinking that the safe choice is the right choice when we need the courage to take the adventure.
I have heard the term “recovering perfectionist” and I like this term because deciding to “let go” more often cannot be a decision you make once. It is an ongoing experiment. It requires daily attention to the body, to energy, to relationships, and to objectives. For me right now, keeping tangible imperfect items around are good reminders. Hence, my now beautiful TV stand!
So… what happened with the broken TV stand? Well, it was fixed, and it has its blemishes. But it was fixed by my dad, which makes it that much more special than had it arrived in perfect condition. In fact, I like its “imperfect” so much that I decided not to install its doors, leaving more room for book clutter and décor (the clean kind of clutter, of course). And now, I no longer see it as a useless, fragile piece of furniture but as a memory with a strong, sturdy smile.
So go out there and find your imperfect, because it might just become your new favorite thing.