About the mostly reformed perfectionist in me: I’d say compulsive-obsessive probably would have been the diagnosis if I was a child now. Keep in mind that I was an only child in a family that didn’t do a lot of talking about life, in spite of what late 50’s, early 60’s family sitcoms portrayed. Being an only child kept me from having anyone to compare myself with on a daily life basis, so it didn’t occur to me that I was approaching life any differently than any other kid was. What I recall, at about third grade, was starting a cycle of cleaning my desk, locker, and room with the plan of keeping things perfect and being perfect from then on. As soon as one part of the plan would go awry, I would have to repeat the process. I don’t recall ever feeling this was a problem or burden, but apparently I eventually became aware that I could not keep up as responsibilities increased.
My mother would laugh to hear me say I was a perfectionist. All she would remember was how messy my room was from junior high on. PERFECTIONISM doesn’t mean you are perfect, it means you have the intense and constant desire to be so. Since I could not settle for less than perfect and complete results in any project, if I couldn’t do it perfectly, I chose not to do it at all. If I had a free Saturday with time to gut all the drawers and closets, I would clean my room thoroughly. If I did not have the time, I would ignore it until I did.
Unfortunately, my daughters both have these tendencies. My younger one has learned her limitations and focuses her energies on her job. My husband does not understand her messy apartment…… but I do. My older daughter turned out to be a gifted artist after a 5 year hiatus from drawing as a result of an older child telling her she colored “yucky” when she was 4 or 5. Sorry girls.
A friend (who is a much better perfectionist than I) has expressed surprise that I have been able to let this go (for the most part). There were two major factors that reshaped my perception of what was really worth spending effort on. Within two weeks, my mother passed away (she was 48 and I was 24) and I discovered I was pregnant with my first child. I decided something that was so painful would be used to grow my wisdom and faith and that carefully choosing battles as a parent would be a priority. My house is straight most of the time, but no white glove tests please. Some things I read helped me realize that focusing on today and this moment is important because it is all you have current control over and since the word worry actually comes from a root that means “split mind”, that is also a waste of energy. I figured out that the over planning and list making was futile as I would write out my school plan book in perfect script for weeks in advance only to have to redo it when a child didn’t learn at the planned pace. Now I’ve become pretty laid back for the most part although I still occasionally have to fight it.
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