Perfection

I remember in college, hearing that Alanis song..."if you're flawless, then you'll win my love...be a good boy, push a littler harder. Got to measure up to make us proud." And it felt like the anthem of my life up to that point - felt like she'd written it about me. Anything less than absolute perfection was met with punishment, anger, withdrawal of love, at least by my mom. I'm sure it wasn't 100% of the time, but I truly don't remember anything but.

That intense achievement drive and tireless effort to be perfect has put me in good standings as an employee...perfectionists can be counted on to work the hardest, turn out the best work, sacrifice whatever it takes to do the work well. The tragedy, or one of them, is that in a perfectionist's mind, the work is never done well enough. There's always more that could be done, always done better.  I know. I am one. It's a constant feeling of being a failure, of expecting failure since some part of your big brain understands logically that there is no such thing as perfection so of course you're going to fail. But the other part of your illogical brain won't accept that reasoning because it believes it can be an exception to the rule of human-ness. It believes that somehow, it can achieve super-hero-ism. Somehow. Just try harder. Push more. Work faster. Take on more. Prove yourself more.

Well, that has been my life for 39 years give or take. I've lessened the maniacal demonstration of this perfectionist psychosis in myself as my logic has gotten stronger and my priorities have gotten straighter. But last weekend, I had a huge, lightning bolt moment of realization that has begun to change me from the inside out.

Up until then, here's kind of the running monologue going through my head:
Alarm goes off in the morning:
Damn it, don't turn the light in the bathroom on until you're dressed - you're an absolute fat cow! Who would ever want you or look at you twice? Much less yourself. Wow, I just have no clothes that fit me right now and I refuse to waste money on bigger sizes. Well, that means you're not going to look as professional as the role you are filling at the office...probably means you're going to lose your job or at least the respect of the people around you, definitely your direct reports. Okay, then just put whatever looks best on and get Squish up. The least you can do is get out the door on time today. Geesh, you're such a screw up.

On the way to work after dropping her off:
I forgot my water bottle and cashews. I am so hungry. Think I'll stop at Starbucks. I know I am a fat cow, but I just want something yummy in my day today whether it's a smile from someone, a hug, something. But I can at least control this kind of yummy. Dang it, I screwed up again and bought Starbucks instead of remembering my healthy breakfast! When will you get it straight, Amy!

As I go through my day...
I have no idea how to juggle all that's on my plate, all that's expected of me. In fact, it's still pretty fuzzy what is expected of me. I feel like it's all expected of me. So I guess I just need to work harder and faster. No matter what I do or don't do, someone is going to be ticked off, so I guess I'll have to choose the least dangerous person to tick off today. Gosh, I miss my Squish. I'm such a horrible mom. Drop her off at 6:45 and have run late the past two weeks picking her up. She's there for 11 hours a day! Someone else is raising my kid! How can that be okay? Wow, I'm a terrible mom. I hope she doesn't hate me someday. Oh, sure - I'll take those five more things on today for you, no problem. I'll just work at home after Squish goes to bed...

After Squish goes to bed...
Brain. Mush. Can't think anymore. I can't do that work I committed to. I'm a terrible employee. My boss must be so disappointed. Where can I squeeze some additional time out of tomorrow to get it done? Oh, and yeah, this is the second month's membership you've paid to the gym and you haven't set foot in it yet. You just suck, Amy. At everything. Is there anything in your life you're not a failure at? You really should care more about your health so you're here for Squish longer. And what are all your friends going to think when they see you at Annual Meeting this way? You're going to make a really bad impression. And you didn't walk the dog either! Not only are you a terrible mother, you're a terrible dog owner too.
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So, last weekend, I'm feeling all this - the weight of the world on my shoulders, almost physically paralyzed by exhaustion in every way possible. Feeling like a failure at every turn.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks...how dare I be so arrogant! I know...you are probably thinking that all that crap I wrote up there sounded like anything but an arrogant person. Oh, but you are so wrong.

The arrogance lies in the belief that being perfect is even remotely possible!! And for me, trying to be such a perfectionist... trying to be everything to everyone the exact way they need me to be every single time without fail...it's the absolute height of arrogance. Who am I to have a chance in hell of being anywhere near perfect at anything? I am human. It is literally impossible for me, as a human, to have all the answers, to do and say all the right things, to be the right kind of mom /employee /daughter /sister /boss / friend...you name it...every time. Can't happen. In every way impossible.

That moment set me free. Truly set me free. I have given up, and it feels amazing. I have no ego any longer. Nothing to defend or prove. I know nothing. Am good at nothing. I am just a sponge wanting to learn, grow and do my best...and I finally get it that my best is good enough.

The exhaustion of trying to be perfect was ruining me. I was losing myself in the chaos and drainage of the impossible. But now, I can gracefully and joyfully be that still small voice at the end of the day that says, "I will try again tomorrow." I will continue to become better at who I am, what I do, the example I leave for others. And the fact that I am not perfect will no longer be the damning, accusing, judgment I used to view it as. It will now be the peaceful, content acknowledgement that yes, in fact, I am human and that I choose to continually keep growing into the best one of those I can be in all aspects.

So to my fellow first-child, Type A, driven perfectionists out there who never feel you can be good enough, I hope beyond all I can express that you find freedom as well. It is a beautiful place to be...