I’ll be the first to admit it, I’ve always had a bit of a perfectionist problem.
At the heart of it, being a perfectionist stems from not feeling safe, so you do everything you can to diminish risk in order to not get hurt. When you break perfectionism down to those bare bones, it really starts looking like a sad and small way to live. So I’m fighting against it with all I’ve got.
I’m putting my thoughts out there before they’re fully formed into perfect sentences. I draw the first thing that comes to mind without worrying whether the execution is perfectly polished. I launch things before I feel I’m ready. I (try) to show my face without feeling like I need to wait for some time when it looks more acceptable. I expose my feelings even though I’m gripped with fear that they might be misinterpreted or mistreated.
I’m doing all these things and they all feel scary. And vulnerable. And I think vulnerability might just be the most important gift we can give to each other. The less perfection we see around us, the less our perfectionism has reason to hold us back with the guise of keeping us safe.
Marianne
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