The Badge of Perfectionism

This is a photo taken just now of my kitchen sink, piled with the dishes. It’s a sign that perfectionism no longer lives in me as much as it used to. I can imagine some people looking at this with disdain. Having worn the Badge of Perfectionism for many years, I can safely say that I’m happy to see the back of my perfectionism. Here’s why.

Perfectionism drives burnout. There are a couple of reasons for this, firstly, and obviously: it fuels exhaustion. It’s tiring going over the same document over and over again; rehearsing the speech you’ll be making; wiping down the cupboards and rearranging the spoons in the dishwasher. Secondly, as Professor Brené Brown points out (1): it prevents meaningful connection, because perfectionism is a form of armour; a method of self-protection that we use when we feel uncertain or fearful. We wear the badge to make us look good, rather than connecting to others through grounded confidence which comes from being deeply vulnerable or “real”.

In my experience with perfectionism, the resulting tiredness was a major contributor to my eventual depression, anxiety and burnout. I felt flat, I lost confidence. When I realised this a few years ago, I got some coaching help and with the use of a tool called “Trigger Tracking”, I became aware of the moments when I felt compelled to “be perfect”; what impact it had on myself and others, and explored alternative approaches. Patterns emerged from this personal analysis which were illuminating and ran deep. The habits had formed back in primary school when 7-year old me discovered that perfectionism and overachieving = praise and reward. The more I A+s, and teacher compliments, the better I was.

The thing is, these habits laid down at such a formative time, tend to stick around. At the age of 30+ they no longer served me and were actually detrimental to what I was trying to achieve. So one of the first coaching homework assignments I had was to practice undoing my perfectionism habit. Pick an activity that I normally do in perfectionist mode, and do the opposite. Try it, and do it again and again. Seems silly and simple, but it was not.

I chose the washing up pile by my sink on a Saturday morning. I always unpacked the dishwasher, loaded up the cups and wiped down the surfaces. All of the surfaces. Including the kitchen cupboards (yes, my affliction was BAD). Before allowing myself a trip to the shops, or whatever. Because you can’t leave a dirty kitchen and go out, can you? What if a robber comes in a sees it? Seriously.

Anyway. I did it and nothing bad happened. I kept doing it. And now, I’m sitting here with the dirty plates piled up and I can see them but it doesn’t fill me with a compulsion. You get the drift.

Side note - on that day of leaving the dishes, I came back to find they had been done. An interesting outcome of letting go a bit. One for another time.

In the work context, it meant: not making the perfectly formatted presentation for an internal meeting. Shock horror. I could actually get my points across with a simple format and nobody died. Who knew?

What instead of perfectionism then? Since perfectionism does seem to get praise and results in some contexts, am I saying we leave it behind entirely? Yes and no. I feel that this is a tool on a Swiss-army knife of tools, that we should use judiciously. A coaching client of mine uses her perfectionist tendency in process improvement. A massive asset for that purpose, as she can spot flaws or missing parts in the system, and plug the gaps to make it work more smoothly. Same would go for software design or anything requiring deep analytical scrutiny. But then we need to fold away that blade and lean into other skill sets and power sources - such as an ability to intuitively spot a commercial opportunity, or magnetism with customers, or using our network to find quick answers to challenges. Nothing to do with being perfect. Just using other skills and sources of power.

But if we did leave it behind, what would that look like? Owning up to not knowing everything, asking others for help, not doing it all, not being perfect. Going with the flow a bit more. Letting go.

The dishes was the start of something for me. I expanded it and kept going, all the while pulling out the other tools in my Swiss Army knife that I didn’t know I had. I tell you, it does have the effect of better connections at work and in life. If you have this tendency, I’d encourage you to give it a try.

1. Atlas of the Heart - Brené Brown (Vermilion press)