Perfectionism

Perfectionism

You keep pushing and pushing for perfection

That’s how I win your affection

You keep pushing and pushing to change me

I try and fail

Good-bye to my dreams.

I’ll lose myself trying to please you.

I missed your mark

Of perfect

(From Expectations, from Fearless Moral Inventory, by Juliet A. Wright, copyright 2010, all rights reserved:)

Juliet’s Codependency Patterns:

• I think I have to be perfect and so do you.  Nothing less will do.

• Your customs and thoughts are always right. I’m always wrong. 

One of my biggest, most dangerous, and debilitating defects is perfectionism. I think I have to be perfect in everything I think, feel, do, and say or I’m a bad person who isn’t worthy of love. I have to be perfect with everyone all the time.

Dad was a perfectionist. I was responsible for making him look good.  That means I had to be perfect in every way.  I was expected to get straight As, behave perfectly, and look perfect.  He expected my sister, my mother, and myself to look and conduct ourselves in a certain way at all times.  Nothing less than the best was acceptable.  If we were anything less than perfect, love was taken away from us. So I learned that if I wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t lovable and wouldn’t be loved.

Therefore, as I child I learned that my family’s problems were the result of my imperfection.  If I were perfect, Mom wouldn’t drink, Dad wouldn’t screw around, and my sister would be happy.

Both Alex and Brad were perfectionists.  I tried to be perfect for them too. I thought that if I were perfect, Alex would still be in love with me.  If I were perfect, Brad would have fallen in love with me and would have forgotten about his ex-wife. It didn’t work.

I felt that Hollywood expected me to be perfect if I was going to succeed out there.  If I was perfect, I would have been a success as a guitar player and recording artist playing sold out shows at the Viper Room and have a body like Heidi Klum.

If I say I’m going to practice for two hours, it has to be two hours exactly, not one hour and 58 minutes.  If my practice time at Interlochen was supposed to start at 6:00 pm, I had to be in that chair by 6:00 pm, not 6:01. That meant running from the cafeteria after dinner and leaving my friend Joy in the dust.

When I’m measuring my food, it has to be exactly one cup — no more no less. When I’m cleaning, I have to get every speck. All pictures have to hang perfectly straight. When I put on my mascara, every single lash has to be perfect, even if I’m late for work. My weight has to be perfect too. I want the scale to say 124, not 124.2.

When I was attending Interlochen, I had my heart set on being Valedictorian. That

meant I needed to get a 4.0. I only got a 3.92, and I felt very disappointed with myself.

I give myself grief about making mistakes. I recently came across an old report card from Interlochen.

“I would like her to back off a bit,” one of my dance teachers wrote.  Reading that really hit me like a punch in the stomach.  I still feel shame when I read it. I was obviously always in her face asking questions, bugging her, trying to be perfect.  That must have been the problem at IAA. I was just so intense that no one could stand me.  I didn’t have an off button.  I never relaxed.  I thought I had to be perfect and that meant being on top of it at all times, every minute.  I can see how that would get wearing.

As I sit here writing this, I am angry at myself for not being perfect. I am full of shame.  I upset the dance teacher.  I was obnoxious. How dare I?

Sometimes I push my perfectionism on my students.  I expect them to be perfectly on time, not drop their violin, hold their bow perfectly, have all their work done, play everything perfectly and not need me to physically help them. For a long time, I expected the violin to be the center of their universe.  I get stressed out during my lessons if they’re late, slow, fooling around, or unprepared, especially when we have a concert coming up.

Here’s a journal entry that documents how this defect of character invades my work life.

May 25, 2010

I am pushing my perfectionism on my music students just like Dad pushed his perfectionism on us. I really feel him behind my eyes when I’m like that and it doesn’t feel good.  I need to change this behavior.

I want my students to be good so I’ll look good too.  I am also very determined to get through everything I planned in that lesson for that day. That’s not right.  Maybe they’re not ready to learn what I have for them to learn.  That’s me spreading my disease. Violin lessons should just be a good experience for them.  I need to chill out and not be so hell bent so that everyone can relax a little bit. 

If there is a way to mix high expectations with joy, I need to figure out how to do that. 

At least I was able to look at my kids and acknowledge the good things they did and not completely push my perfectionism on them.  I could respect the fact that they are there and they are trying.

I have since discovered that it’s okay not to be perfect.  It’s okay to make mistakes.  I am still a good person.  I’m still lovable.

Besides, even if I had been perfect, it wouldn’t have fixed my parents’ problems anyway.  It wouldn’t have made Alex or Brad love me.

I still hate making and admitting to mistakes.

Here are some of Juliet’s Positive Affirmations that support my work in this area.

It’s okay for me to make mistakes every day.

God knows everything about me and loves me anyway.

God loves me in spite of my mistakes. 

I say these positive affirmations 21 times every day to help combat my perfectionism.

I believe that someday God will relieve me of this defect of character.