Perfect

For so many years, I tried to be perfect. Perfect in my interactions with people, perfect in my work, in keeping my house clean, in pretty much anything I did.

If I’m perfect, I will be able to stay under the radar, avoid the glares, the punishment for stepping out of line.

Those years changed me, and this pattern still continues today. Only now it has turned into making sure that I receive approval, or acceptance from other people, whether on my job or in my personal life.

Although I haven’t arrived yet, I’m better than I was, and I’m hoping that by acknowledging this struggle, that it will help me continue to grow in this area.

When looking back on it, growing up, I was never really concerned about being perfect in anything. My grades in school were good, but not great. My room was a disaster growing up – I remember one of our family friends was astonished to find that on this particular day, not one piece of clothing was hanging in my closet, they were however, all over my floor.  Looking back, I wasn’t concerned about what people may or might not think of me if I failed, or wasn’t perfect. I felt accepted for who I was and not for the things I did.

But that was before.

Because I came under such scrutiny, such judgement and criticism, I had to try and be as perfect as I could so that I wouldn’t give him something to chastise me for. I had to dress a certain way, wear more makeup than I would have otherwise, I watched very carefully every word that I said. I kept the house as neat and tidy as I could and I tried to cook everything perfectly, because believe me, if I didn’t, I would know.

Perhaps there was a part of me too that wanted to keep up appearances on the outside. No, we don’t have any problems, I have a perfect husband, I have a perfect house. I still remember right before I left, my ex had a lavish bouquet of flowers sent to my work. That was his way of apologizing. To my co-workers, he looked like the perfect husband. They were jealous of me, and I didn’t let on otherwise. I couldn’t break my perfect image, how could I let them or anyone know what was really going on?

So, this is where it started, but I still struggle with this today. If you come over to my house, I will run around making sure everything is neat and clean. If I’m in a conversation, I will try my best not to offend you. If I make a meal for guests, I will make sure to go all out. With my work, I will try to do everything as perfectly as I can. If I make a mistake, I will think about it way more than I should.

Now, I’m getting better at this, believe me, I’ve made improvements, but I still have a ways to go. I’ve learned that perfectionism stems from a root of either comparison or trying to prove oneself. For me, I know that mine comes from a desire to prove myself; to avoid the pain of rejection. But it’s time to let this go, completely.

So the next time you come to my house, I may purposely not pick up beforehand. I may call a pizza for dinner instead of making a meal. I may say some things that aren’t perfect, or I may hand in a work assignment that is “good enough”. There has to come a time in all of our lives where we realize that who we are is exactly who we need to be and trying to be perfect is an empty, tiring place to live.

Are you ready to hang up your perfection hat?

Psalm 139: 13 – 18

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place,

when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book

before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts,^a God! How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand—

when I awake, I am still with you.