#002 “ Perfection Kills ”
I want to start by acknowledging that the perfectionist experience is no where near a unique one. That’s why I hesitate to talk about mine at all. No one needs to hear about my problems when they have their own. But if you know me, you also know I love to talk. I really feel like genuinely sharing feelings with people who are listening to understand instead of react could ease a lot of tension in a person. Confiding in your community is what keeps you grounded. It reminds us that this life is a shared experience. We’re not alone no matter how much it feels that way.
For a while, I thought my perfectionism pushed me to be the best version of me. I didn’t see it as an enemy, yet. It carried me through primary, secondary, and higher education. Deep in the world of exams and proving myself to those “above” me, it made sense that a high GPA gave me false security. I was safe as long as I had great grades— opportunities and ideas would just present themselves to me… right? I realize now that that was terrible misinformation from my childhood that I internalized and ran with but after graduating, I didn’t have to prove myself in an academic space anymore. My perfectionism shifted from my grades and started clinging to my art instead. Every idea needed to be perfect the first time it left my brain. I was deeply frustrated if I “failed” while experimenting with a new medium. There was no longer a joy in the process of creating, anything, because no matter what, deep down I just knew it wouldn’t live up to my impossible standards. Perfectionism wasn’t pushing me to do or be better anymore— it was paralyzing. I was so afraid of “wasting” my time over still undeveloped (AKA “new”) ideas or concepts that I… wasted my time deliberating over what I could do that would be worth it and ultimately completing nothing at all. Spoiler alert: at that point in my thinking, nothing would have been worth it. Especially not with the pressure to make money every second I’m breathing looming over my head, but that’s a different issue.
I quickly felt creatively stifled by my own self when all I wanted to do was create stories and art that spoke to and connected others. Visions of future projects or story ideas stopped coming to me completely for years. I frequently questioned if I could even call myself an artist anymore, and that might have been the most disheartening part.
The good news though? I’ve finally realized the hold perfectionism had on me throughout my life. I can choose to no longer let perfectionism paralysis control my art, because now I understand that the joy and energy is in the learning and the creating and the process, not in saying you made a piece that’s perfect. What’s even the definition of “perfect” anyway, really? It’s different for everyone. So just create.
Can anyone relate? Comments are on!
If you’re still reading I want to thank you! I’m grateful you’re here. Until next time!
✨🌹 Faith @ VQP
