In the spirit of true honesty, I’m going to confess. Hi, my name is Andrea, and I am a perfectionist. No, I do not believe by any stretch of the imagination that I am perfect. And I do not judge others who do not strive for perfectionism the way I do (well, not too much). I mostly am critical only of myself, perceiving anything less than perfect as a failure. I do tend to be a little hard on my child, well children really, as well. My daughter gets more of the brunt of it as she is with me all the time, but my stepsons have been privy to my nagging when their behavior is not quite what I had in mind for the three little darlings. It’s not that I criticize any of them for their “shortcomings”. I mean, what kind of perfect parent would do that? I understand they are children and are learning, and I like to think I am encouraging and uplifting. Is it wrong to encourage them to give it their all, to be the best they can possibly be? Is it so bad to expect impeccable manners and respect for their elders? And I am certainly happy to dole out the praise and compliments for a job well done.
Boy did I get a wake up call this weekend, though. Lord, help my sweet little girl, as my perfectionist ways are rubbing off on her; and I’m not sure I’m equipped or qualified to prevent it. Report cards came home last Friday afternoon, and I reviewed Bella’s while she was playing with friends. Much to my surprise, hers was slightly less than perfect (and you have no idea how hard it is for me to even admit that, because then that must mean I’m not a perfect parent! Yeah, I have issues!). Then I was even more surprised, and angry with myself, for being disappointed that the child had a couple “very goods” mixed in with her “excellents”. Really Andrea?! A “V” in music is just not going to hold her back from going to college, and a “V” in conduct does not mean she is the worst behaved, most disrespectful being that ever graced that first grade classroom (ok, so I’m a little dramatic too). Get a grip lady! So I conceded that the progress report was in fact phenomenal and that I had much to be proud of, but I wanted to hear her take on it. So in the car the next morning when I casually mentioned that I had gotten her report card, she, of course, asked how she did. I remained mostly neutral, if not positive, and just stated the facts. Instantly my poor child was in tears, so disappointed in herself for not being perfect! While a little piece of my heart smiled at her need to do better, the rest of it just shattered in a million pieces.
I believe being a perfectionist may not be a bad thing completely, as I know Bella will always give it her best, and will likely succeed at all she does. The problem is, I know from my own personal experience she will also miss out on so much in life for fear of failure, or something less than perfect. And this is what I strive to change. This is why I confess to my shortcomings, so I can let go and help her be her best, accepting that her best may not always perfection, and that’s ok.
In my younger days I was a competitive gymnast. Some days I thought I was good, but most days I just didn’t believe I had talent. My family would tell you a different story, and probably my capabilities would too. I wanted to be so good, in fact I wanted to be perfect! I loved gymnastics, lived and breathed for it. I dreamed of being an Olympic gymnast, and even had my sights set on going to Los Angeles in 1984 (was I even old enough, I’m not sure, but it’s what I wanted). I had the best cheerleaders supporting me and believing in me. But I just didn’t believe enough in myself. I was afraid I wouldn’t be perfect, so I just didn’t do it. I just quit.
I was a good student in high school (though I didn’t really believe it then), and got accepted to my two top colleges of choice, the University of Florida and Stetson University. I was on my way to law school, right? Wrong! Because what if I went away to school and failed? Yeah, I better just stay in my comfort zone and attend the local community college, and hang out with the same friends (at least the few who were also going to community college or who had not yet graduated) who knew me and accepted me with all my flaws and imperfections. Another missed opportunity due to my perfectionist ways, my fear of failure.
As I said before, being a perfectionist does not mean you believe you are perfect, it means you set a very high standard for yourself, and achieving anything lower than that standard is just not good enough. It means living in fear of failure, that you may not be able to do something at the highest level, so you just don’t do it at all.
I have done a lot of great things, and fun things in my life, and I’ve been through situations that have taken so much strength and courage. I have had success and faced failure. So I am not admitting my shortcomings here because I have regrets, or because life has been so rough for poor little me. I am not a person who lives in the past or lives with regrets, because there is just too much good all around me to worry about that. And my life, despite my fears and lack of confidence, is turning out more perfect than I could have imagined. In spite of my pursuit of perfection, I have failed at things. I have picked myself up and moved on, and it has been good. I know that I am not in control, that God has a perfect plan, and that things will work out. I confess my perfectionism as a “problem” because it is just now hitting me the impact it has on my child. I want her to strive to do her best in life, but I don’t want her to miss out on life because she might not do it just right. And more than anything I never want her to believe that she is not good enough, or that what she does or how she behaves is a disappointment to me. Of course I want great things for her, but the greatest thing I want is for her to know that, whatever course her life takes, she is loved unconditionally. I want her to know that she will make mistakes, and she will do some things imperfectly; but the only way to fail is to never even try.
I Am a Perfectionist, I Am Not Perfect
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