If it’s not perfect, it’s not worth doing.
This is THE belief that has governed so many aspects of my life, something reinforced daily in our culture, the type of quote “performance coaches” post on Instagram transposed over a majestic eagle as their Monday Morning Motivation.
It is also the belief that has resulted in me being too afraid to try new things, too embarrassed to express myself unless I knew *exactly* what I wanted to say, too prideful to ask for help, and too insecure to look at my reflection in the mirror with love instead of disgust. I didn’t go to law school because of this, I didn’t move out of state to experience a new career in a new place because of this, I didn’t say what I needed to say because of this (I’ve failed you John Mayer).
In little ways and big ways, this belief has been my reason for not *really* living. Guys, I cannot really live if I continue to let this belief be a thing in my life.
Lately I have been struggling with the multitude of changes happening in my life all at once. The increased workload, a sick baby, trying to cook meals at home, an ever growing uncomfortable body and the daily drama that seems to erupt in our country – all contributing to me not noticing that my perfectionistic program started getting louder and louder and louder again. My perfectionism is there as a way for me to cope and control, a socially celebrated state that I’ve used since childhood to achieve great results. It always kicks in when I’m overwhelmed and white knuckling life letting me know that if I am not able to get all of this shit done, and done P-E-R-F-E-C-T-L-Y then I’m probably not as awesome as I think I am. It drives me to work myself to the bone, waste time redoing things that are already done because it wasn’t quite right, avoid dealing with stuff immediately until it snowballs out of control.
“In fact,” my perfectionism says “why even bother? You know this is too much for you. You aren’t at the level you need to be in order to be successful at all this stuff. You’re overwhelmed because you’re in over your head. When you do x, y, and z perfectly THEN you’ll be ready. Who do you think you are taking on this monumental stuff anyways?” And then she cackles like that octopus hoe in Little Mermaid and turns back to rooting against Bobby Flay on Beat Bobby Flay (crazy bitch).
The truth is, this part of me is there because I am afraid. It’s insidious the ways we protect ourself isn’t it? Instead of saying, I’m afraid to take a chance, take an action into something that I may fail at but despite being afraid I’m going to try anyways, it says take a seat and don’t get too big for your breeches. Staying safe from the potential jeers of others or the sting of failure is WAY more important than stepping into your greatness, even if your greatness is a little messy.
BUT I AM HERE TO BE BIG FOR MY FUCKING BREECHES!!! (read that again Somone Wilder)
I was made to be big and bold and stand the fuck up and take chances. I cannot be my greatest self if I’m not willing to be exposed, “imperfections” and all.
I am proud of me for noticing this creeping in, I know it’s because I am embarking on next level shit that is scaring me and this perfectionism is there trying to protect me in her own fucked up way.
My response today is – I see you girl, I hear you, I even appreciate how you’ve served me in the past … but I think it’s about time I choose to make a little bit of a mess on my way to greatness.
xoxo,
Monie Thots
