I’m Recovered, but Traveling Makes Me Question Whether I’m Still Sick
It’s hard to find contentment when you’re busy chasing perfection
I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the best travel companion.
I’m a perfectionist and struggle to go with the flow. What’s even worse is I know this about myself and feel bad when it inconveniences others.
My perfectionism has interfered with quality moments throughout my life, and it’s made seeing the silver lining in situations difficult — especially while traveling.
I’ve never handled bumps in the road well, but perhaps one of the first signs of perfectionism in me was not being able to handle bumps in my hair well.
As a child and before the divorce of my parents, I’d sit at the kitchen counter while my mom did my hair before school each morning. She was always trying out fun ideas to make me look stylish.
I usually liked my mom’s hairstyles, but detested when certain strands of hair stuck up higher than the rest. Each one had to be evenly brushed back and smooth. One bump in my hair and I’d come undone.
From a very young age, I required perfection — or rather, my idea of perfection — to feel okay.
