I’m still on fire. This is like the 4th blog post in like 2-3 days. OOOOH, DOGGY.
I wanted to build off my last post regarding love and belonging, according to author Brené Brown and her book The Gifts of Imperfection. Today we will be discussing perfectionism. Something I’ve always struggled with but just didn’t know I struggled with it, well, at least till I read Brown’s work.
I’ve always bitched at my Pops for his perfectionism, but his perfectionism rests with material items. Putting a desk together the correct way, perfect lines while he mows, etc.. That’s not what it is for me.
Here’s what Brown has to say:
“Where perfectionism exists, shame is always lurking. In fact (opinion), shame is the birthplace of perfectionism.”
I’ve always stood ready to die on a hill that I am not a perfectionist. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. Maybe we all are to a certain extent as Brown stated in her book. Maybe she’s right. Maybe she’s wrong. But it’s worth a thought.
Brown goes on, “I think perfectionism exists along a continuum. We all have some perfectionist tendencies. For some, perfection may only emerge when they’re feeling particularly vulnerable. For others, perfectionism can be compulsive, chronic, debilitating, and similar to addiction.”
That rings true to me. Why? It’s something I struggle with on an hourly basis. I think every day needs to be perfect. Every action I make needs to be the perfect one. Yeah, it doesn’t translate to making sure all the paintings on my wall are completely straight, but it translates into something so much more important for me. And it can be destructive. Being aware of this empowers me.
Remember, no matter how lame it sounds, you are enough. Better than enough.
I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.