Just about any sports movie, self-help book or motivational poster spews out the same maxims of success: Try harder. Achieve more. Don’t make mistakes. Never accept second best.
Above all, strive to be perfect.
Too often, these are the kind of messages the world continuously throws at us in the 21st century — and well, they’re kind of hard to argue against. When we’re living a society where dozens of flawlessly-retouched celebrities are plastered across the front cover of our magazines, and the entire process of college acceptance seems to rely on that perfect ACT score, it’s not all that surprising that we have internalized such high standards of perfection. But it seems that this pursuit of the unattainable has ultimately generated a destructive psychological phenomenon that’s currently sweeping our nation: perfectionism.
When most people think of the word “perfectionist,” they might think of the over-achieving, highly-motivated type of person — the ones who are constantly working and accomplishing things, relentless and diligent in the pursuit of their goals. And while perfectionism can certainly be a good thing in that it drives us to try to achieve our ideals and objectives, it can also become incredibly maladaptive. Fears of failing to achieve that “perfection” can actually stop us from trying rather than motivating us, and the consequences are often devastating: We become caught in a cycle of setting increasingly unattainable goals, focusing on perceived failures — and then procrastinating or engaging in self-destructive behavior to avoid such failures.
It’s the terrible curse of being a perfectionist: Because we hold ourselves to such high standards of perfection, we constantly end up thinking that we just aren’t enough — not smart enough, pretty enough, athletic enough or good enough.
Like all perfectionists, I’m guilty of doing all of these things: of thinking the entirety of my life depends on that perfect GPA; of wanting to have that perfect body and that perfect hair; of writing and rewriting my stories and essays again and again to make them match my vision of perfection — and then being frustrated when I fail to do so. I’m guilty of procrastinating on my papers until 2 a.m. on the day it’s due, simply because I’m afraid that I can’t write something that I’d be proud to turn in — and I’m guilty of being so fearful of making mistakes that I don’t even attempt to do it in the first place.
But most of all, I’m often guilty of being in that all-or-nothing mindset of all perfectionists, the ones we repeat to ourselves with almost every endeavor we attempt: if this isn’t perfect, I’m not good enough.
It’s taken a while for me to realize that my perfectionism has lately become more of a maladaptive force in my life than an adaptive one — and that it’s ultimately taken a toll on my mental health and my daily mindset. But this isn’t to say that being a perfectionist is necessarily a completely bad thing; when adaptive and healthy, it can actually manifest as a desire to achieve personal bests and a determination to accomplish your goals — but without beating yourself up if you come up short. It’s all about that balance between setting high personal goals for yourself, but remembering to make them attainable and realistic; striving for success, but accepting and learning from your failures if — when — they occur.
Still, imperfections are inevitable — and if there’s anything I’ve learned in the past few years, it’s that we should celebrate them. The fact that we can’t mask or fix all our imperfections can actually a good thing: It helps us see our flaws and mistakes, accept them, and grow from them. We don’t always have to turn in a “perfect” essay because the feedback we receive on all our mistakes will ultimately help us grow and improve as a writer. Nor do we need to make every single one of our basketball shots — for more often than not, the ones we miss are the ones we learn the most from. Our failures ultimately improve us; they help us learn, allow us to grow — and maybe even change ourselves for the better.
Yes, I’m a perfectionist, but I’ve accepted the truth that I was, am, and will always be imperfect. And the reality is that if I waited for every single endeavor I pursued to be “perfect,” I’d be waiting forever, in perpetuity; I’d never complete my class papers or dare to take that free throw shot — or even finish writing this article. So instead, I write it being satisfied with my efforts and my growth, knowing that I have imperfections — that we all have them — and then expose my blemishes to the world, flaws and all.
