Written by: Kellie Klinck, MA, LPC

My perfect friend.

My perfectionist friend sits right next to me.  Every moment of every day. You can’t see her, but I know she is there.  I feel her presence, like a heavy boulder, leaning against my shoulder.   She doesn’t say much - she doesn’t have many words.  She only asks one thing of me - to be perfect. She does this tirelessly every moment of every day.

She appeared one day, probably when I was 5 or 6. 

I knew how to please her most of my childhood and early adult years.  I could win her over with an A+ on a test, a ponytail free of bumps, or elaborate gift-giving.  And when I didn’t meet her demands for perfection, her shame was cold, shocking, and terrifying.  

Truthfully, I didn’t win her approval very often, but just enough to stay hooked.  And it felt so great when I did make her happy.

Being perfect became harder in adulthood.  There aren’t as many measuring sticks.  What is a perfect mid-20 something?  Here was what my friend told me:

• Married or in a committed, amazing relationship

• Attractive by society’s standards

• Pleasing to everyone around you

• Confident

• Lavish social life

• Clear on future goals and wants

• Fun, easy-going but also goal-oriented

• Successful in career

• On an escalator to greatness without set backs or insecurities

I didn’t see it then, but I started to lose myself in pursuit of this confusing, overwhleming list.  I started doing things I am not proud of - treating my body and others like tools or barriers to perfection.   I engaged with toxic people simply because they reinforced my need for perfection.  Every time I fell short --- I ran a slower mile than the day before, or I made a mistake at work —I dropped deeper into her shame pool where I’d just swim faster and harder to get back out.  No request of hers was too much.  I was a slave to her.

When I entered into therapy in my late 20s, I knew I needed to change some of the way I looked at the world and myself but I was not ready to push back against her.  Absolutely not.  Subconsciously my logic was -

"If I was not perfect, then I was shameful, and who wants to live in shame?”  

That was what she taught me - those were my only two options.  To be in the light of perfection or the darkness of imperfection.  I entered therapy numerous times to confront disordered eating, thinking, and relationships but never was I able to make much progress.  I now know that my friend, sitting in the therapy room next to me, was the one talking to the therapist.  She was whispering in my ear, telling me “don’t tell her about X” and “don’t change a single behavior or you’ll be abandoned.”   She still had full control over me.  I asked for help managing my anxiety and depression but was unwilling to challenge my beliefs about myself and the world….I could not even admit that I may have flawed thoughts or approach to life. 

Becoming a practicing therapist was the turning point in my relationship with her.  I was in such agony, trying to be the perfect therapist, that I buckled.  Panic attacks, depression, and loads of internal conflict finally got my attention and required me to take a good hard look at myself.

Breaking down resistance to awareness is the hardest part, I believe, especially for those of us living with perfectionism.  It is physically painful to drop the shield of perfection and sit with the shame while we figure out how to stand up to that voice in our heads.  

Perfection is a voice that has been here for years; self-acceptance and compassion is like a new baby deer still trying to find it’s strength to stand.  The imbalance of internal dialogue makes it hard at first to not backslide into the ways of perfectionist thinking.  For anyone familiar with stages of change, I sat in pre contemplation with perfection for decades.   Moving to contemplation was a scary but life-saving step.   

Once I was able to see the flaws in her, not me, my first impulse was to eliminate her.  To make her go away entirely.  That was another result of perfectionist thinking - it causes us to think in extremes.  I fought the idea that she could exist and not have power over me.  However, moving away from controlling and into accepting was the key to recovery.  I had to surrender to her existence and accept this was a lifelong relationship.  Otherwise, I was just fighting my reality.  And, as Byron Katie says so superbly, “When you argue with reality, you lose but only 100% of the time.”  

What finally me my power back was to shift my relationship with her….

to let her sit there, right next to me all day long, spewing all of her perfection-demanding requests without taking the bait.  To let her still get a few past me but know that at anytime, I can disentangle from her.  To pay attention to myself enough to know when she’s taken over.  And, ultimately, to choose to test the theory that I can be me, imperfections and all, and still be accepted, good enough, and loved.  

As I turn 38, I feel forever grateful to have shifted our relationship.  She is still here with me, even as I write this, telling me to go back and edit this until it is just perfect.  However, what she doesn’t know is that it is good enough just as it is.  As am I.  As are you.

//Please know you are not alone. At Modern Therapy, we specialize in high functioning professionals. We have studied and personally lived the ails that come with performance, over-performance, being “good enough”, and the struggle to make room for ourselves.