In April of this year, I did a thing. With the gentle nudging of my coach, I participated in a professional rebranding photo shoot. The photo shoot took place in the midst of tremendous grief and sorrow. I was still reeling from the shock of my father’s passing. If I’m being honest, I’m still reeling from it now. There are days where the grief of it is so intense that my heart physically aches, and the tears have a valve of their own that cannot be turned off…
And yet, the photos are more real, more authentic, more true than any photos I have ever taken. They reflect someone who is more grounded, more present, more connected to herself, Life, and others. They reflect who I am without any filters or pretense. They are raw and real. They are vulnerable. They are beautiful.
This photo shoot in April was not some spur of the moment, spontaneous event. It was part of a much larger agreement with my coach to start to see myself more clearly, to claim the value of the work that I do, and to realign my brand to clearly reflect that. It was part of a project called “Seeing Myself”.
Why am I sharing this with you, and what does seeing myself have to do with the title of this article? Everything really. When we slow it down.
I don’t think it needs to be said that I’m a recovering Perfectionist. Anyone who has spent enough time in my presence will either have experienced my dedication to excellence, or the many ways I push myself to do it all, and stay on top of everything. Close friends, my therapist, and my coach knows how hard I am on myself, and how I used to beat up on myself for the smallest of perceived mistakes and missteps, with so much fear of how I would be perceived, or what I would be judged as…
The mask I had donned early on in my life was one of hardworking, conscientious, committed, good girl. My sister and I were joking about it the other day. I spent years of my life being “the good girl” trying to do everything right and thereby earn my parents’ love and attention. She, on the other hand, was the rebel. She got to do all the bad and dangerous shit that the good girl in me would never allow me to participate in. And she received more attention. When she jokingly said she had tried so hard to get them to stop paying attention to her, I realized how hard I had worked to get them to pay attention to me.
What’s really true here, is that both of us were trying to get our parents’ attention. We were just going about it in different ways, based on what our nervous systems had figured out we needed to do to survive. Both my sister’s rebelliousness, and my quiet grinding away, working hard and diligently, were cries for help.
And I want to be clear here, that both my sister and I recognize that “good girl” and “rebel” were roles we played. It’s not who either of us are, because no-one is that one-sided. We are all multi-dimensional beings with the capacity for both goodness and cruelty; with the capacity to both show up with loving, presence, compassion, grace, and care, and to show up with disrespect, cruelty, meanness, selfishness, etc. No human being is pure good or pure evil. And no-one is perfect.
And if you are reading this, and you are a Perfectionist, I want to point out that saying to yourself that “no-one is perfect”, is not the same as knowing in your being that no-one is perfect. It’s not the same as seeing how toxic Perfectionism can be, and how it’s not something that you should be wearing as either a badge of honour, or as something you try to hide. It’s a survival pattern. It helps you navigate a world where you believe that you are not safe unless you have earned your worth. You are not ok until you have proved that you are worthy.
Perfectionism has you hustling for your worthiness, because somewhere in your life you bought into the false belief that who you are is not enough, and that the only way you will ever be loveable is to be perfect. Perfectionism is often a way we try to protect ourselves from criticism.
And yet, have you slowed down to consider what has you feeling so afraid of other people’s opinions? What has you attaching so much weight to what others are saying about you, without, for one second, considering what YOU think of you?
I could guess why you are not slowing down to consider it, given what I know was true for me. The truth was what I believed about myself was even worse than what anyone else believed about me. And creating a pattern of Perfectionism was a way I tried to protect myself from the shame I would feel about my own unworthiness and inadequacy. I would be hard on myself so that no-one else needed to be.
So here is the truth about Perfectionism. It will make you look so good. And it will also make you feel awful.
Recently, I was in a conversation with a client who told me how she was exceeding the sales targets at her company – and not just by a little bit. She was creating three times more business than anyone else. She said, “I don’t really care about the numbers. I just feel this constant anxiety that I might fail, and I cannot afford to fail. That keeps me going.”
That resonated. I knew what she was talking about. That constant anxiety. The constant fear that no matter how hard you work, it will never be enough, because the possibility of failure looms around every corner. And I also knew that she wasn’t being fully honest with herself, so I asked, “Is that true? That you don’t care about the numbers?”
This client is very self-aware, and she is honest. So, she paused, and then admitted that it wasn’t true. She said, “No it’s not. I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m actually obsessed with the numbers.” And again, her answer resonated. The obsession with numbers. Using the numbers punitively to prove our own unworthiness.
What this client was experiencing was that she was being praised by her boss and her colleagues for her stellar performance, and she was not letting any of the praise and acknowledgement land. She couldn’t hear the praise, because in her own mind, it wasn’t enough. She convinced herself that she could be doing more, and she needed to keep going, because if she were to pause to take it in, acknowledge herself, or (God forbid) celebrate, she would risk exposing herself as not perfect, as not in control, as not on top of everything. She would be seen as the imposter she believed herself to be.
My client can see the pattern. She knows that she is blocking herself from receiving praise, from being acknowledged, from celebrating. She knows that it’s a choice. And it doesn’t mean it’s a pattern that is easy to break. I have spent years of my life living in constant fear of being seen – seen as flawed, as human, as not as smart and capable, as not having my shit together. That fear felt primal.
In the words of the lovely Kendra Cover, “If there is Protector Energy present, then that thing saved your life at one point.” Perfectionism is a pattern some of us fall into when we believe that it’s dangerous to be ourselves, when we believe that the only way we will stay safe is to not make any mistakes, and stay in control no matter what.
Perfectionism can be so good for your Ego, because it will make you look good on the days when all your pushing and efforting works out. You will outperform, over-achieve, shine, and stun friends and colleagues with your stamina, your commitment to excellence, and how you “make it look so easy”.
And yet, at the same time, it will make you feel awful. On the days when things do not go according to the plan, you will be relentless in your hostility towards yourself. You will ruminate over mistakes, and use any and every measure to punish yourself for not maintaining the standards of performance you are supposed to live up to. And even on the days when everything does work out, and you do succeed, it will not let you rest. It will not let you savour or acknowledge all the work that has been done. It will not let you catch your breath, celebrate, or experience joy. It will remind you that you must keep hustling or you will be found out. People will know that you are not as perfect as you pretend to be. And the game will be over.
It will stop you from taking real risks. You will overthink, over-plan, and stay stuck going around and around in circles when you cannot see a way to do something without it being messy. The fear of looking foolish, or looking like you are not in control, will stop you from being vulnerable, honest, and open, will stop you from asking for what you want, will stop you from doing something bold that you know deep-down will be good for you, but that also feels too risky to the Perfectionist. You might find yourself procrastinating and/or avoiding, because taking action feels dangerous.
So, here is the truth no-one is telling you. Everyone else around you already knows that you are not perfect. They already love and accept you just as you are. Everyone else around you can see how hard you are on yourself. They can see how much you hustle. They don’t see you as an imposter, simply as someone who is working too hard. You don’t know that, because your Perfectionist will not let you see it, because then you might realize that it’s been lying to you.
Continuing to wear the Perfectionism mask is actually what has you feeling like an imposter, because you know that it’s not real. The real imposter is the Perfectionist. Not you.
Now back to the photos. I did not want to have my photo taken. Why? Because my Perfectionist told me that I was not ready. I had to release at least 10 kgs before I was at an “acceptable weight”. I had to earn more money before I could talk about my success in business. I had to fix all the issues in my marriage, before I could really share more about myself. I didn’t know enough to take a stand for the work I am doing. I would look foolish talking about thriving and being authentic when I was still struggling with so much of my own issues around perfectionism and hustling for my worthiness. In short, I wasn’t ready.
And my coach pointed out that I would never be ready. I would continue to look for excuses. Or I could choose to see myself for who I am NOW, flaws and all. I could choose to want to see myself more clearly without the need to look through the lens of what is broken or wrong. I could choose to see what is beautiful, good, and powerful now.
I could have used my father’s death as an excuse to not have my photos taken. It would have even sounded legitimate. My dad died. I’m in grief. Sorry. I simply can’t.
And yet, I knew that not taking the photos would be a way that I was self-abandoning again. It would be a way that I choose to not see myself again. Not acknowledge the real pain and heartache that was here. As well as the joy, wonder, gratitude, and wisdom…
I felt the Perfectionist’ resistance to the choice, and chose to move forward anyway. And I was careful not to let her take over the choice. She would have loved to control the outcome of the photo shoot. She could have fretted for hours about what to wear, and about all the ways that it was simply wrong.
I allowed it to be messy. My Perfectionist didn’t like that. I allowed myself to be open and vulnerable. And I chose for it to be fun, because if I was going to do it, I might as well have fun doing it. Now there is a lot to be said for my coach’s presence there. She believed in the vision that I could not yet see, and she gently kept nudging me, whilst also holding space for all that came up around it.
I was resistant. So resistant, because my Perfectionist was throwing a tantrum. She was so afraid. And yet, my Higher Self knew that I had to keep going. I had begun to see myself differently, in the ways that I had shown up with my father while he was ill and dying. I owed it to myself, my lineage, the cycles of trauma I have released, to my family, and my clients, to keep going, to keep telling the truth. And part of that truth was to stop making myself wrong, was to stop punishing myself for being a real messy human.
Sometimes something needs to shift on the inside first, before anything on the outside will change. There have been some tectonic shifts over the past two years, and it’s time to share the story. Not because the story matters, but because YOU matter, and your authentic expression matters, and living a life that is free from the burden of Perfectionism, is worth fighting for.
You took human form to be here and find ways to fully express. Living as a Perfectionist is a form of self-censorship. It’s not being willing to let yourself be real and human. It’s robbing you of joy and gratitude. It’s making life feel like a struggle for survival, instead of an unearned and magical gift.
So, over the next few weeks, I will share more. My Perfectionist is telling me that I’m not ready. And I will embrace the messiness of this and share anyway, because she does not get to stop me from thriving. Let’s begin the conversation about what it means to truly thrive… I have some thoughts I’d love to share. And I’d love to hear yours.