I'm a perfectionist.
But not the good kind.
We live in a cult of perfectionism. It is everywhere, it is inescapable and it’s likely making you feel like you’re not good enough on a regular basis. It is for me, anyway.
This morning as I was running through the national park close to my home, I listened to an old Goop podcast where Gwyneth Paltrow—who has, arguably, been held to the absolute pinnacle of perfection by our culture—interviewed social psychologist, Thomas Curran, about his book The Perfection Trap, discussing where perfectionism comes from and how we can move beyond it. To say my interest was piqued is an understatement.
As someone who has, in many ways, worn my perfectionism as a bit of a badge of honour over the years, I could relate to so much of what was discussed. In the first instance, what I found fascinating was that perfectionism is 30–40% genetic. This seems startling at first, but the truth is that most of our underlying personality traits are rooted in our genetic makeup. But what is even more interesting is how our society and the culture more broadly, impacts the extent to which our perfectionism shows up—and also how it uniquely manifests itself.
Growing up as a Millenial in the 90s and 00s, being a perfectionist was almost celebrated. As a kid, I can viscerally remember the feeling of being praised by my parents and peers when I did well at school—and in a sick way, it sort of drove me to work as hard as possible to achieve a level of excellence that was, quite frankly, untenable long-term. This isn’t to say that parents of Millenials were ‘doing it wrong’ by celebrating our wins, it’s just that the language and foundations of traits like perfectionism wasn’t broadly understood then. Parents thought they were being supportive when praising our achievements—and in many ways, this is true—but when you have a child who is perhaps exhibiting perfectionistic tendencies, what they’re translating that praise into is negative self-talk when they don’t live up to this excellence in every situation. In my experience, there is absolutely no question that I aimed for perfection in every endeavour—but I can also recognise that some of my other personality traits lent themselves uniquely to exacerbating my perfectionism. I was disciplined, I was self-motivated and I worked really bloody hard. While in many situations this delivered me the result I sought, when it didn’t, I berated myself for being not good enough and I think these small wounds didn’t really rear their ugly head until much later in life.
School, as one example, is a unique ecosystem in which the way we apply ourselves is only in small part self-directed. Put simply, we have to be there and we have to get the work done or else we fail. But the ecosystem is protected in the sense that our achievements don’t mean much beyond the scope of school. Nobody cares in your 20s or 30s if you were top of your class or played the lead role in your school musical. These success metrics are almost null and void by the time you enter the real world and for those of us who felt ‘perfect’ in this safe ecosystem, it can be extremely unsettling when there are no longer such solid metrics of success to work towards.
The first example of this that I can recall is at university when I tried to apply my same sense of perfectionism and work ethic to my studies there—but found myself flailing simply because the degree I’d chosen to pursue was far more subjective than objective. This meant that my tutors and professors could simply provide feedback on my work in terms of their personal feeling or response to it—rather than say someone in mathematics trying to prove a particular theory where there is arguably a concrete result. As it turned out, pursuing the ‘Arts’ was one of my first experiences of feeling this sense of ‘failure’.
Entering the workplace was also unsettling. Most of us grew up being told that if we worked hard, studied hard and did our very best we would be rewarded. But this is not always the case. Luck, timing and the economy more broadly has so much to do with how we find our feet in terms of career—and for those of us on the brink of our 40s and beyond, we can recognise in hindsight that certain decisions that are made in a silo very much impact where we end up next. The path to the ‘top’ is not linear, but we were sold the dream that it was.
There’s also no way to overlook the role social media has played in this mess. Aspirational perfectionism is everywhere and while during the 90s it was the culture of womens’ magazines that sold us perfection, as we hit the mid-00s, Intagram began to train our brains as if by osmosis that if everything looked perfect on the outside, this would naturally be reflected in our internal lives as well. Not true.
But returning to the conversation between Paltrow and Curran, what was incredibly interesting was how perfectionism doesn’t automatically correlate to sustainable success. Sure, some perfectionists might also be hard workers—but for many, it’s actually self-sabotage which is the prevailing trait. Hard relate.
What was fascinating to understand was that perfectionists might actually hold themselves back, refuse to step out of their comfort zone, try new things or take certain risks because the fear of failure or external rejection is far worse than anything else. And it was this sentiment that hit me hard. If we don’t try—we won’t fail.
Objectively, I can recognise that I do work really hard. But I can also recognise that while I apply myself to the pursuits where there is a clear path to completion or success (like my paid work), I self-sabotage at every opportunity when it comes to my own creative work. And after listening to this conversation, I have to wonder how much of this is due to my own self-talk and how much is the sea in which I swim to blame? In other words, am I blaming the hustle culture and ‘business of busyness’ where we conflate putting in extra effort as morally admirable in some way—or am I just not finding the time to write my book because I’m terrified that it won’t be a success. If I’m honest, I think it’s the latter. Which is both deeply vulnerable to admit and also sad. I champion the women around me to achieve and yet I self-sabotage myself from doing the same.
While battling perfectionism in relation to creativity may not be the most relatable example to others—more generally, I think many of us who grew up and into the digital age can still objectively consider how perfectionism has touched each of our lives simply through the advent of things like social media. When it feels like your peers are living in a show home, finding the time to complete a four-hour morning wellness routine or juggling their careers and motherhood seemingly effortlessly, it can tear away at our self-worth in ways that are almost invisible. But depending on the level at which these types of wounds hit you, can indicate at which end of the perfectionist spectrum you sit at.
Despite shining a light on a trait that I have perhaps put on a pedestal up until now, the conversation was also incredibly uplifting as perfectionism is certainly something we can rewire our brains to be more aware of. Unquestionably, the wisdom that comes from age and life experience can certainly help to put things in perspective and help us to realise that good enough is sometimes just that—good enough. But by talking about our perfectionist tendencies and sharing our vulnerabilities, we can also help to overcome them.
I may never finish my book. But I really hope that I do. Otherwise I’m just allowing perfectionism to leave my dreams on the table—when really, I’d rather be writing them down.