The problem, albeit not the only one, with perfectionists is that their perfectionism isn’t limited to their areas of expertise. Oh no. Their perfectionism knows no bounds. They have to be perfect in everything they do.
At least, that has been my experience with perfectionism. I want to be perfect in both the things that are my strengths as well as the things that are my weaknesses. When I write or draw, I expect certain things from myself. When I try to roller skate – as I did on Sunday – I hold myself to some unrealistic standard. I expect to be the best, most perfect roller skater even though I have never roller skated.
The problem is that I am not the best roller skater. I am not even a good roller skater. I am an abysmal failure as a roller skater. I know I’m exaggerating, especially since I only tried to roller skate for a few minutes before surrendering to frustration and multiple falls, but that is how I feel. When I’m incapable of meeting the demands I set for myself, I feel like a failure. I become upset by those failures.
I not only become upset by the failure itself, but I also become upset about the fact that I’m upset. I know that it’s ridiculous to be agitated about my inability to roller skate. Having that knowledge doesn’t help balance my emotions; instead, I only become more upset because I have that knowledge and feel even more the fool because I’m distressed by a silly thing.
I don’t have a cure for those feelings or for my perfectionism. I try to respond to them appropriately on a day-to-day and, sometimes, minute-by-minute basis. I try to remember that I’m the only one who is setting the rigorous demands. Nobody else expects me to be the perfect roller skater. That is my expectation, and it’s one that needs to change.
Erin Feldman
Erin Feldman is the founder of Write Right. She's a copywriter, editor, poet, and artist. She helps people tell their stories. You can find Erin on Google+.
Follow Me:
[...] I overcame it during my martial arts days, but I didn’t. I’m still afraid of falling, and my recent adventures with roller skating and jumping on a trampoline have brought my fear to the [...]
[...] the site was “perfect,” everyone would be waiting a very long time. At some point, I have to let go of perfection and just let things [...]
[...] have to leave those things. I have to try again. I have to put on the roller skates. I have to put my pencil to the paper and my fingers to the keyboard. I have to face my [...]
[...] positive. If I fail at something, it means I’ve tried. I may feel awful about that failure, and, as a perfectionist, I know I will, but I at least tried. I didn’t let my fears of failure keep me from making the [...]
[...] feeling like a failure and thinking I’m the dumbest person on the face of the planet. It’s the perfectionist in [...]
[...] The problem with perfectionists, albeit not the only one (This line is becoming a theme.), is that they’re demanding. They demand a lot from themselves. They sometimes demand a lot from others. They demand, demand, demand. [...]
[...] That isn’t to say I don’t review my work. I do. I still obsess about lines and word choice and punctuation marks. If I’m honest, though, I rarely re-read the work I publish on this site or my Tumblr blog. To do so is to enter dangerous territory. It’s a territory filled with bogs and meandering paths that lead nowhere. Once a work is published, it’s published. It’s time to move onto the next thing. It doesn’t do any good to worry about the work. Yes, I’ll review it based on feedback I receive, but I won’t dwell on it. I will make the necessary alterations to the work - if they’re in keeping with what I am attempting to accomplish with a particular poem or post – then I will abandon it. It’s the only way to get things done when I’m a perfectionist. [...]