I have been on a mission for the past few days. Been fired up and propelled forward on a burst of energy that has added a spark to my eyes and a new sense of purpose to my thoughts.
I think this is called ambition.
And I am trying not to be scared.
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I would quite easily identify myself as a perfectionist.
I’m not good with failure and I don’t like making mistakes. I aim to please, am a little obsessive, and like things to be ‘just so’…
Interestingly, if you asked me to define ‘just so’, I’d probably struggle, and if you asked me to describe “perfection”, it’d be equally hard….which is where this post begins.
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“A perfectionist” -
I liked to think that this was another lazy assumption. Another medical tick box. Like the fear of growing up tick box or the high achieving academically tick box.
As I’ve said, nobody likes a label.
As I’ve also said, they’re quite helpful.
And, in my case, this one would get a big tick.
With the slightly more mature insight of a 29 year old, I can whole-heartedly agree that I am a perfectionist. I can also, albeit somewhat begrudgingly, confirm that it contributed to parts of my illness. At the very least, it was kept busy by it.
It’s hard to accept a label without de-coding it satisfactorily. It took me a while to translate ‘perfectionist’ from theory to reality. To really get what it looks like.
This.
