Perfection: A Perfect Illusion

In 7th grade, I ran for class treasurer. I didn’t win. In high school, I completely botched a piano guild audition for which I didn’t practice nearly enough, embarrassing myself and disappointing my teacher in the process. A couple years ago, I was rejected from multiple graduate schools, and I didn’t want to tell even my closest friends about my first couple of rejections.

It’s no surprise that we all mess up sometimes, we don’t succeed, or we get rejected - but these completely normal occurrences are so incredibly difficult to stomach and openly discuss. Despite (hopefully) being surrounded by a supportive group of friends and family who console us when we don’t do well, many of us often aspire to portray ourselves as perpetually perfect and infallible.

I’ve spent a lot of time chasing perfection in a multitude of ways. From rewriting notes because the first version didn’t look “pretty enough,” to spending hours on aligning and color-coordinating PowerPoint slides, to trying to determine my perfect career. My perfectionism is fairly obvious on a day-to-day scale as seen by the more trivial examples above. With reflection, however, I’ve started to realize just how much it underlies my broader personality.

Perfectionism can manifest in so many different areas of our lives. Maybe it’s in minor details and arbitrary expectations that we set for ourselves, such as writing neat notes or color-coding our closets; maybe it’s in a grander life view like living the “perfect life,” portraying yourself as perfect, or deeming yourself a failure if you don’t achieve something exactly the way you wanted.

There’s no right or wrong - I don’t think aiming toward perfection is inherently a good thing or bad thing. But what could be important to consider is whether or not it’s all worth it. Personally, on one hand, my natural inclination toward perfection holds me accountable. I’m driven to try to exceed expectations on school and work assignments, to challenge myself in my creativity, to go that extra mile because I know that I won’t be satisfied until I meet my own standards.

On the other hand, my perfectionism ties in heavily with fear and procrastination. There are so many activities I never started because I was scared I wouldn’t be good enough - that I wouldn’t achieve the level of success others did in that area, that I would get lost in the crowd, or simply that I would fail. I’d be embarrassed. There were so many things I didn’t try because I didn’t want anyone to know if I didn’t succeed.

As I mentioned last week, I wanted to start a blog for 14 years. 14 YEARS!!! Even if I started 5 years ago, regardless of the trajectory I would have followed, I would have had 5 more years of learning under my belt. But my fear stopped me. I needed to know how everything would play out before embarking on the journey, instead of taking a chance, learning, and improving along the way. I sometimes just sit and stare at my minor and major tasks ahead because I don’t want to go down the path of making a mistake, rather than just engaging in trial and error and getting it done. Next thing I know, it’s three days later and no progress has been made. I’m so determined to be perfect that all I’ve done is waste my time and energy and increase my stress and frustration. Here I know that my perfectionism wasn’t worth it. I didn’t challenge myself (quite the opposite, in fact); I didn’t go the first mile, let alone the extra one; and I certainly had no results to learn from or show.

Honestly, I feel like “perfection” is a façade. Almost everyone would express with rather insouciant candidness that humans make mistakes and no one is perfect. On the other hand, individually, we strive toward an abstract standard of perfection. Likewise, society tends to idolize some lifestyles as perfect and the epitome of exemplary living. The latter two aspects of this trichotomy pose a paradox to the former - if “perfect” doesn’t exist, what “perfection” are we actually pursuing?

I think sometimes we put so much stock into what’s in front of us that we forget how transient any given moment may be. Yes, we may feel embarrassed, we may feel sad, upset, and frustrated. We might even feel heartbroken. But think about all the times you didn’t get what you hoped for or situations didn’t turn out the way you wanted.

You’re still here, you’re okay - and if you aren’t, you will be soon.

Moments that seemed so earth-shattering back then are mostly distant memories now. I didn’t even remember that I ran for treasurer in 7th grade until I watched a TV show the other day that reminded me. (And if you’re my 7th grade classmate and you’ve stumbled upon this post and you remember … well, 1) yikes and 2) reach out, how are you doing?!!) The Guild is a hazy cloud of shame that no longer incites contrition. And I finished graduate school last May.

It’s natural to care about other people’s reactions to what we do, especially in an age of social media, where information spreads more quickly than the time it takes to recover from a setback privately. We want to present the best version of ourselves to avoid criticism, disappointment, or judgment. Moreover, we want to present our best selves because we may think that that’s expected of us. How often do we share the mistakes we make in a non-humorous, non-self-deprecating way? How often do we share photos of ourselves breaking down or processing bad news compared to photos of our travels and momentous occasions?

I want to take a deeper dive into the perception of ourselves by ourselves and others in another conversation - but I’ll say here briefly that I sometimes feel like I’m not trying to live up to my own expectations or other people’s expectations of me, but rather what I imagine others’ expectations of me are. It’s almost like I’m trying to prove to my actual self that I’m capable of living up to a hypothetical version of myself that’s sitting on a pedestal of other people’s nonexistent image of me. I’m looking at myself from a third-person point of view and molding her into this unattainable being who’s on a constant upward trajectory, which is impossible. I’m not as scared of failing as much as I am scared of others knowing that I’ve failed. It’s rather self-centered, ridiculous, and sad, don’t you think?

Here’s the thing: every emotion you feel is completely valid and worth processing. As normal as setbacks are, they will always hurt or at least sting. BUT THEY DO NOT DECREASE YOUR SELF-WORTH IN ANY WAY. YOU ARE NOT ANY LESS CAPABLE OR WONDERFUL, and, in fact, you are probably wiser having taken the chance.

No, I won’t suddenly stop caring if my marker goes astray on my paper. No, I won’t suddenly gain confidence and do everything I’ve ever wanted tomorrow. But I will be more open to trying something even if I might not do well. Moreover, I want to be more open to talking about my ventures even when I don’t know the outcome. None of this will change overnight, but little steps everyday to gain perspective on how important being “perfect” is will help me to slowly feel empowered to take the ups and downs in stride. 

I want to encourage you to choose something in your life on which you might be placing more value than necessary - anything from trying to craft the “perfect” caption to planning the “perfect” trip to avoiding sharing a recent setback out of fear that someone will think less of you. How do you feel? What was previously holding you back or worrying you? If you feel comfortable, share your experience in the comments below, email me, or DM me. I promise I respect you all the more just for trying.

If this topic is of interest to you and you want to dive deeper, let me know and we can explore other factors that contribute to perfectionism.

P.S. If there’s anything I can do to make these posts or even the website more accessible, please leave your feedback below or email/DM me. Inclusivity is super important to me, so I’d love to make any adjustments to ensure this content can be accessed by all!