How To Be Perfect

perfect

 

I don’t think it’s going to shock you to hear me say that I’m a perfectionist. Maybe I was born this way, maybe it’s the way that I was made through years of parental expectation and ballet classes, but I can’t remember a time where “good enough” was ever actually good enough.

This hasn’t always been a bad thing. My grades were only ever perfect, because that’s all I could do. And as an adult, I’ve built a career out of being detail-oriented. I don’t know how to be anything else than at my best.

But it isn’t always a good thing, either. Aspiring to perfection means that you always, ALWAYS fail. You will never be perfect. You will never write the perfect sentence or take the perfect picture, execute the perfect look. I have a very hard time recognising my achievements, because all I can ever see is the vast distance between what I’ve done and what I COULD have done, if only this was different, or I had this thing, or this other thing wasn’t happening in the background.

In my head, I’m failing all the time. And the more I succeed, the worse I fail.

Sometimes this is inspiring; it encourages me not to rest on my laurels or get complacent. It’s good to strive for something. It’s not good to constantly feel crappy because you aren’t The Queen Of Everything, All The Time. Nobody can do that, you know? Even the actual Queen isn’t doing that. She isn’t personally ruling every nation in the Commonwealth. She knows better than to try that! It would cut into her hat-wearing time!

Me, I don’t have hat-wearing time. Even when I’m not doing anything, in my head I’m doing something. I wrote this blog post and edited it three times while I was walking my dog.

I’m not sure what the solution is here, so sadly this isn’t going to be a “This Girl Used To Be A Perfectionist. What She Did Next Will Take Your Breath Away” type of article. I know that I can’t change who I am, so trying to be less of a type-A weirdo is about as likely as sprouting wings. Instead I am going to make a list–I still love those–of the things that I want to work on. I don’t want my perfectionism behind the wheel anymore; I want it in the passenger seat, being my navigator.

  • I’m going to start appreciating what I’ve accomplished. I seldom feel like I’ve done anything special, and I need to start giving myself a bit more credit. I knew nothing about photography when I started my job, and I’ve taught myself a lot. I built a studio from scratch for under $50. And video editing? Man, I’m skilled at that now. I know that there’s nothing that I can’t learn or achieve or do if I apply myself to it, and I need to remind myself of this every day.
  • I’m going to start appreciating what I look like. This can be reeeeeeeeally tricky. It’s my job to look at beautiful people day in and day out, and it’s almost impossible not to compare myself–often unfavourably–with them. But you know what? I don’t need poreless skin. I don’t need a 22″ waist. I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m talented, I’m healthy and I am AWESOME. I’m great in my own way. That’s the truth, and that’s what I need to start living.
  • I’m going to apply less pressure to myself. Because the world won’t end if it takes me a day to return all my emails instead of AS SOON AS THEY COME IN, OH GOD.
  • I’m going to take time off. I know a lot has been written about how social media is ruining society, blah blah blah, but I love it. But lately I’ve been feeling spread a little thin, and maintaining twitter/facebook/instagram/tumblr/etc has been feeling like something I HAVE to do. Maybe this means turning my phone off more regularly. Maybe this means setting limits on my social media time like an lazy teenager. I just want to feel joy in the fun stuff again, before it became so important for work.
  • I’m going to cut myself a break. I’m going to stop being so self-critical. I’m far harder on myself than anyone else could ever be–yes, this includes random people on the internet–and beating myself up over my work or not giving my very best to a workout or WHATEVER is just garbage. I wouldn’t let a friend beat up on me like this; I’m not going to do it, either.

I don’t know if this is going to make me happier. But I’m tired of not enjoying good things because I’m too busy wishing they were great, so anything has to be better than where I am now.

Wish me luck.

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