Perfectionism, Identity, and the Optics of Worthiness
On not being a perfectionist in a world teeming with them
My husband taught me something about flowers recently. Geranium, he told me, is a fault in wine. We were discussing the floral scent and had agreed that we both liked it. It’s lovely — it’s sweet and punchy and smells like a sun-drenched field pierced with bright crimson petals. But it signifies an unwanted reaction during the winemaking process. In other words, when you get a taste of geranium, you know something didn’t work the way it was supposed to.
Perfectionism is a geranium. Its optics are gorgeous, illuminated by a halo of grit, strength, and flawlessness. But perfectionism can be a fault. It cheats us from the art that so many people would have created, and indeed could have created, but didn’t because it wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t so-called perfect. Perfectionism often prevents those who bear its weight from starting something new, from even trying.
A badge of honor so many wear as if it were a requirement to worthiness, perfectionism is all around us. How often do you hear people slip into a conversation that they are a perfectionist? I hear and read it often, and every single time I do, I wait for that accomplished feeling of being able to tell another person that I, too, strive for perfection…
