Letting Go of Perfectionism

I recognized that I had perfectionistic tendencies when I was pretty young. However, I thought that was a good thing. I thought that being perfect was what everyone should aspire to.

These issues early on may have affected others, but I didn't realize. Looking back, even though I know that my perfectionism (when I achieved it, that is) probably made me too standoffish to really be friends with, it was what it did to me that was the biggest problem.

If I wasn't perfect, I had no worth. Second place wasn't good enough - I had to get first. The shame of not doing well in a piano lesson was almost too much to bear. My stomach hurt every... single... Sunday night - because I was terrified I had forgotten some homework or to study for a test.

In adulthood, friends and family were the ones who clued me in that it wasn't actually a positive trait. 

Some examples of it interfering with my life included...

- not letting others come to my house unless it was absolutely spotless,

- not allowing anyone to see my newborn baby until I was dressed and had full make-up on,

- not sharing things I was good at, but not perfect at, with others.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

So what I did was actively combat being a perfectionist. It wasn't easy.

I did things like actively leaving the dishes in the sink instead of washing them and putting them away. Letting my hair get a little greasy before I washed it. (I still couldn't let it go too long.) I actually started leaving the house without make-up (I know - gasp!)

Those types of activities helped to tame my perfectionism - to an extent. I still see it rearing its ugly head when my reputation is at stake. 

Photography and writing are examples. 

I can't make grammar or spelling errors in emails and texts, because someone might think I don't know what I'm doing with words. I can't post unedited photos on Instagram because they aren't, well, perfect.

But I'm trying. I want to get rid of this trait because I know that it really does affect my relationships - with others and with myself. 

So, I'll finish this so I can try to actively ignore the floor that desperately needs to be vacuumed. Keep in mind that I'm not lazy... I'm working on my mental health.

Why Can't I Simply Be Like "They"?

"They" come in smiling and laughing. "They" greet each other with lots of how-are-you's and introductions. "They" giggle when they mess up on their name tags. 

"They" hug people who were perfect strangers five minutes before. "They" take a seat right next to each other and pay close attention when the speaker starts. "They" don't need anything to fidget with in order to make it through the meeting.

I'm nothing like "they."

Today was a huge example of this.

I guess it started last night. My husband and I had a big fight that I'm "not his boss" (though I kind of am currently since he recently joined me in the freelancing business I've had for about 7 years).

Add to that, it's been a rough morning. Things that should have only taken a few minutes took much longer. When I washed my hair, I pulled out one of my earrings - into the murky water of my bubble-bath-infused tub. There were a couple of packages I needed to drop in a UPS dropbox that I had to get ready.

And then I forgot I needed to get gas so I was running late. Aaaarrrrggggghhhh!

This was all on top of feeling cruddy due to not sleeping well, hurting a lot from a fibromyalgia flare-up, and fighting being in a low/depressed cycle with my bipolar. 

There was only one reason I decided to go even the way I felt - to see a really good friend of mine who leads the group.  Due to our crazy schedules, we haven't been able to get together in a while and I was looking forward to seeing her.

I got there... and quickly realized she wasn't there. 

It made the social anxiety I deal with amplify to incredible levels. I'm not a good actor on the best day - and it definitely wasn't a "best day." When I saw "they" do their thing, I didn't have the energy or motivation to even try to pretend.

I sometimes wonder why I can't be that way - smiling and greeting everyone, asking "How are you?" as a substitute for simply saying "Hi," sitting right beside someone I've never met.

When I step back and look at it, I know that it's my social anxiety (as well as the many other mental health issues I deal with) that makes all of this so difficult. 

But honestly, it's also because in my soul, I actually don't want to be like "they."

When I smile or laugh, I want it to be because I'm happy. When I ask, "How are you?" I want to care about the answer. When I hug someone, I want it to be because I like/love them. 

I don't want any of this to be forced due to social obligation.

But, at the same time, I wish I could conform. It hurts to be left out. It's easy to feel "less than" when everyone around me is well put together, with nice clothes, hair, makeup and an easy smile.

Something strange has been happening lately, though. 

People I'm around actually seem to like me (even though I can't do all the shiny, happy stuff). I was specifically asked to share some things about myself to the group (even though I'm nothing remarkable). I was complimented on what I wrote on my name tag ("Tracy - here but only barely").

Maybe... just maybe... it's okay that I'm not like "they" after all. Maybe it's okay to be me.

It's Strange How a Random Possession Can Affect You Emotionally

It amazes me how a possession can be tied to strong memories and even when you know it's best to get rid of it, it's difficult simply because of that tie.

I had a recent example of this happening.

When I started trying to do photography for a living, I had many ideas of how to accomplish this goal. Some were crazy; some were too difficult to carry out; some cost too much to try.

But one idea that I was I thought was brilliant. It had to do with portraits and nursing homes. 

Back when I worked for Lifetouch (now Shutterfly) taking portraits of families for church directories, there was one church whose elderly didn't have a way to get there. One of the members mentioned that she wished that we had come on a different day - the day when a van picks them up and brings them to the church for senior activities.

I told her I was sorry but that we had no control over the schedule. And I really was. I hated that so many people potentially wanted portraits of them and maybe their families but couldn't get them.

After I left Lifetouch, I was still thinking about this issue. So I bought a studio backdrop stand, a few nice backdrops, and studio lighting. My plan was to take this setup to nursing homes and assisted living communities and offer to take photos of residents and their families if desired.

I thought through the logistics of doing this kind of shoot and figured it all out - pricing, distribution, etc. I recognized that many of them might not be able to figure out how to download the photos, so I set up a much more complicated system of having them printed and how I would distribute them.

After making flyers that described what I planned to do, I mailed and/or emailed all of the local senior living facilities... and waited for the huge positive response I would get.

I'm still waiting - several years later.

There wasn't one response... not one. Because cold calls are not in my wheelhouse, I didn't know what else to do, so I let the idea drop.

However, recently I interviewed a woman whose job is to help place seniors in assisted living facilities. I mentioned my idea to her and she loved it! She said she'd connect me with a lot of the homes and I got excited again about living out this idea.

Then I remembered... When my husband lost his job, I finally put my studio setup (minus the lighting) on Facebook Marketplace. I hadn't used it in a while and it was taking up a lot of space. 

It had been listed for a couple of months and had only had one or two who were even a little interested so I was in no hurry to take it down from Marketplace.

Then I got a serious inquiry. This man was starting photography and really needed backdrops. I talked to him about it, honestly thinking it would fall through like so many others that I had tried to sell things to.

But he didn't. I didn't want to back out - and I decided the money and space I would gain would be beneficial - so I sold it to him.

I had no idea the emotions that would be stirred up with that decision - the hopes and dreams I had at the beginning of this journey and all of the times it didn't work out; the anxiety that I had made the wrong decision to sell it; the happiness to get rid of something that felt like a weight around my neck (since it took up so much space and I wasn't using it). 

Even though I had such an emotional response, I met him at a Target parking lot and he paid me for it. I decided that it was done and I needed to move on. I could always get another one if I realized I really needed it. 

Post script: That money paid for a piece of furniture I've been desperately needing - so it really did all work out. 

Realizing the Link Between Fundamentalism and a Judgmental Attitude

I'm a person who hates to be judged and hates to judge... but does so constantly. It's one of my character flaws that bothers me the most.

I judge to make myself feel better (when I know I'm better at something than the next person). I judge even when I know I'll feel worse (when I compare my body and mind with a healthy, young person). I simply can't stop judging.

I've known about this issue for years (and years and years). It was extremely pervasive during a time in my life when it should have been the least - my ultra-religious teenage and early adulthood years. 

However, I never realized that those years were not only when it was at it's worst - those years (and previously) were most likely when it started and became such an important part of my life.

I was raised Southern Baptist. Though not as extreme as some denominations, such as the IFB (Independent Fundamental Baptist), the church I went to from the time I was 2 weeks old until I was about 16 or 17 was very conservative. It relaxed the strict standards a little through my late childhood into my early teen years, but the impact was still there.

One of the earliest memories I have of judging had to do with church. We were the kind of family that was involved in the church 5-6 days a week many weeks of the year.

We were there every Sunday morning... of course. Growing up, we also had a Sunday evening service, which we also always attended. (It was a great day when someone was sick and we got to stay home and watch "The Wide World of Disney.)

Monday night was visitation - to witness to those in our neighborhood (think of a tame version of Mormons). Tuesdays and Thursdays were basketball practice nights (my dad coached, my brothers played and I was a tiny cheerleader). Wednesday night was supper and a prayer meeting. Fridays and Saturdays were full of youth activities (for my much older brothers with my parents often chaperoning and bringing my younger brother and me along).

Then it was Sunday again.

Many of my extended family attended the same church. My earliest and best friends attended the same church. Life centered around church. 

We were there pretty much every time the doors opened.

From a young age, I couldn't believe there were people who didn't come every single Sunday morning. I know I wasn't overtly taught to look down on them, but I did.

But it didn't end there. Those who didn't read their Bible every day, or attend Sunday School, or attend all of the many other services and functions were not as good as we were.

As I grew up, the categories expanded. 

If you watched horror movies, or celebrated Halloween, or kissed on a first date, or listened to secular music, or - heaven forbid! - drank alcohol... or committed a myriad of other "sins," I felt superior and judged their behavior.

Sin included even playing with or owning toys that someone said were wrong. (I can't remember by whose influence I learned these things.) Some examples were Rainbow Bright, Dungeons and Dragons, Cabbage Patch Girls and other randomly chosen items that God supposedly didn't want you to have.

Again, I felt superior - and judged their choices.

I had no idea that at the time, but I was learning to constantly judge everything and everyone. 

However, keep in mind that I wasn't off the hook. 

I judged myself. 

I judged the food I ate - it was good for me or bad for me. This led to an eating disorder. I judged how I performed. This led to being perfectionistic and letting how well I did on a task determine my worth. I continued to judge others who didn't attend church as much as I did.

I was miserable - and I'm sure I made others miserable with my "holier than thou" attitude.

Realizing one of the roots of this attitude doesn't help it go away, but I feel it is important. 

Maybe someone reading this hasn't recognized that what they thought was pleasing God actually causes an attitude of judgment. Maybe my revelation will free someone else before it becomes as ingrained in that person as it is in me. 

Hopefully, I'll overcome it - and while I'm overcoming it, I can help others do the same.