Confessions of a Perfectionist

Truth. I am not a true perfectionist. That would be borderline psychotic. I feel like true perfectionists are very complicated people. I mean, think of all the things that you would have to worry about: looks, education, talents, family, job...seriously the list is never ending. And thinking about it, perfectionism is just stupid.

I used to be close. Back in grade school, it was like a game/challenge to be a perfectionist or to increase my homework load. We would have multiplication races and I always won. If I didn't, I suddenly had a bad day at school. I remember I used to ask my teachers for homework. I would get so excited to do homework because I knew I could do it perfectly and get a 100%, gold stars and smiley faces. They looked so good on a piece of paper.

I ended up going to a "challenge school" or an advanced middle school (whatever you want to call it) because of this crazy stupid perfectionism. It was a new program; we were the schools guinea pigs. They stuck these crazy perfectionist kids in the ghetto school downtown Grand Junction to boost the school's test scores :) For the next three years, I was around kids who tried to out-perfect each other. Sons and daughters of doctors and lawyers...it was insane. Everyone was in music, everyone got A's and I was in a sense at home.

We fought over science fair projects. I fondly remember (fondly being the awkward key word here) being at the district science fair with all my classmates and a bunch of high school students. It was so much fun. Growing up, being a perfectionist in school meant you got to get out of school a ton. Elementary school it was get out of school to script a puppet show. Middle school it was the science fair. Side note: that was the year my parents said less was more....the kid next to my booth had the exact same project idea and it was twice as big...he made it to the next round and I didn't :).

Well off to high school I went and suddenly I realized there wasn't nearly as much homework. I was used to doing like 6 hours of homework in middle school (sick I know). I asked teachers if I could create power points for them POWER POINTS!!! I'm sorry, I was nuts. Reality hit me and I soon discovered that I didn't have to try as hard. Oh, and there was time to play, and watch TV (not saying I didn't watch TV in middle school...I so did). But I just found other ways to occupy my time. I rebounded a bit. The first semester I got two B's but by the end of my High School years, I had a 4.0.

Then I came to college and realized...I can be average and I am totes okay with that. I still have some perfectionist insecurities though...allow me to illuminate.

 

I was in the MTC (Missionary Training Center) learning a new language. Italian. Probably the easiest language to at least start (until you study their grammar...sick!) Every word is pronounced how it's spelled (and if you know romantic languages...boom. You got it). So there I was, trying to speak this language perfectly. You see, every week you have these teaching experiences. The first one is like, go into a store and buy some clothes...and try to start a conversation about the gospel, invite them to hear the message. 

 ....

OMG I remember when we taught the first lesson in the MTC. They didn't have enough volunteers for us to teach to, so they piled like 3 companionships (6 missionaries) in one room and expected us to take turns trying to teach......

....

I don't think I said one word. I knew that if I spoke, I would mess up pronunciation or grammar or something. So as a recovering perfectionist, I said nothing...no mistakes that way. You see?

Getting out into the mission field was just that much more difficult. Babies knew how to speak Italian better than me. :] My companions would be laughing at something the member family said...and I would just smile. And then they would laugh at that. I would say that it took me about 3 months to actually feel comfortable with the language. I knew how to say what I wanted to say. And I felt good about it. Was I perfect, no way. But I was better than the guy next to me and that was perfect enough :)

So is that perfection? Being better, cleaner, neater or more talented than the person next to you? Are perfectionist just anal people with pride issues trying to be better then the kid next to them?

So I start this ballroom thing. Oh boy, I hated practicing in the beginning. I was in 184 (one of the beginning classes) and I wanted to be as good as the people practicing open routines in the practice studios. I saw them do a quickstep...and reflected on what my teacher taught us. There wasn't nearly as much running and hopping. I hated practicing though (like I hated speaking Italian in the beginning) because I knew people were better then me.

Even when I got back from the mission and started competing open, I would see people noticeably better than me and ... my partner and I would switch rooms.


So what has changed? Am I perfect PAH!!! Do I consider myself better than everyone around me? Boh ho ho!!! So what has changed. I think recovering perfectionists find some secret that works for them. For me, its a love for what I do and seeing progression in doing it. When people ask me, "What makes you do ballroom" I say "It just feels good in my body" To non dancers, maybe physic majors or geologists, that may be difficult to understand. But it feels good in my body, and I can see where I've come from. A coach once told me, "When you practice, your goal is to make everyone stop what they are doing so they can watch you. When that happens, you'll know you're getting somewhere."


Why am I not better at the guitar? Or why haven't I touched it outside of taking the guitar class? Well, I'm not perfect.

Sir Charles