Perfection is exhausting...

Or so I’m told. Perfectionism was never in the cards for me.?

Around the age of 3 my folks split and we moved from our single-wide trailer outside of town to an even smaller apartment in the “city limits” for our new beginning. My Mom was working 3 jobs, our family was on government assistance and, courtesy of my grandparents, we got a fun plot twist… a private Christian school experience.?

On the surface I wasn’t so different than the other kids; same age, same ethnicity, etc. But every now and again things would happen that would reveal my differences, and fear would race through my veins. This is it. This is where they turn against me. I don’t belong here.

I remember walking up to school my very first day. The teachers and staff knew our story — and while they weren’t pleased at the divorce of a preacher’s family (yep, my Dad was a Reverend and this was the 80's), money is money and we passed whatever kind of non-heathen test in our interview to be accepted as their newest students — but the other kids didn’t know. That first morning a small girl, my age, stopped me before I could get inside the door and asked, “Are you new here?”

Fear, like ice, shot through my veins. Here we go. This is it. I’ve been outed already. If my pre-school self had the language, it would have been a big sigh of an F-word. But remember, I passed the non-heathen test so it was just a sweet, “Yes.”

“Great! Want to be my best friend?”. ARE. YOU. KIDDING. ME!?!?

“YES!”

Can you freaking believe it!? Me. New. Different. And BEST FRIENDED! By the end of the day she asked if I wanted to go to Disney World with her. Day 1 = Disney World Invitation?! Who is this chick? A Princess? (And to ease your curious minds, yes, I eventually went with her family to Disney World & we are still best friends to this day.)

Over the course of that pre-school year, I have vivid memories of my imperfections bubbling up. Fear that was met with acceptance by one, then two, then tree, and so on. My Dad not showing up to school events like the other kids was actually a relief to one whose Dad had died in a helicopter accident in the military — single parent kids unite! Having red painted finger nails was met in solidarity by a?friend who brought in her Barbie rock-n-roll cassette tape for show-and-tell — we were rebels together!?

Turned out the less “perfect” I was, the more it was revealed who were my people… my pre-school, turned lifers, people (seriously, I'm still close with a couple of these humans). And not just for the fun & mutually understood moments. It was just as strong, maybe stronger, for the things that weren’t fully understood.?

Like that one day a boy named Glen took my hot dog during lunch and began eating it. I was furious and the tears built in my 4 year old eyes as he laughed. The intense betrayal my small body felt from having a classmate take food from me, a food-insecure child, eat it and laugh… I hated him. But guess what? Instantly, my best friend (who was food-abundant) hated him too. We still do.?Solidarity, sis.

In the 33+ years since pre-school, I’ve experienced much of the same unfolding. Fear has been replaced with healthy hesitation, but that healthy hesitation is what still bubbles up when an, audience perceived, imperfection is exposed. “Where do you live?” - “Where did you go to school?” - “Where did you intern?” - “What was your GPA?” - “You have children?” - “Where do your kids go to school?” - “What makes you qualified to ____?”

And to be perfectly honest, that healthy hesitation is totally appropriate because it’s not always met with embrace. My pedigree, my personality, my imperfections are not for everyone — those are mostly the folks still portraying perfection. But I’ve got a pretty good (really good, actually) track record, of really solid people, who openly admit to liking, and trusting, me more now that they’ve seen the inside of my book; and not just the shiny photo ready cover. And goodness knows I feel the same way about them!?

Turns out most of us feel that way. Being around people who attempt to constantly present as perfect is exhausting. It causes us to put up our guards and even encourages us to blur the truth to assimilate. It’s inauthentic and not sustainable. It’s a hard lifestyle to choose and an even worse business strategy.?

So if you feel a little weary from masking in that perfect facade and need an invitation to step into a more human space, here it is. Go ahead and be a little less perfect. I bet you’ll discover that folks will find you as a lot more likable. And guess what? We trust people we like. We go above and beyond for people we like. We do right by people we like.?

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?? Hi! I'm Brittany Joy Fountain, Founder & Chief Humanity Officer with?Britt Joy & Co. We are redefining Corporate Culture Strategy via Immersive Alignment; a refreshingly HUMAN approach to strengthening your organization's culture.

? [email protected]

“In the past jobs were about muscles, now they’re about brains, but in future they’ll be about the heart.”?- LSE Director Minouche Shafik (2018)

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