I am Not a Perfectionist

(Banner photo by Ursus Wehrli)

I am the chillest person you will ever meet.

I am so laid back that I almost fall out of my chair daily. I do not carry stress in my shoulders and neck, nor do I grit my teeth.

When I start something, I always finish it because done is better than perfect.

I am so Type B that I don’t even know what it means to be Type B, nor will I put unnecessary effort into looking up what it means.

I don’t enjoy winning, I just like playing the game.

I meditate multiple times a day…not to manage stress, I genuinely enjoy the quiet of my own mind.

I don’t worry about pleasing others. Their feelings, behaviors and emotions are not within my sphere of control.

I am so patient that sometimes I forget what I’m even waiting for.

I don’t see mirrors of myself in that neurotic George Costanza character.

I am the best at accepting my imperfections and flaws.

I do not seek to be the best at anything. I understand that being “the best” is both subjective and fleeting.

I do not need affirmation from others to validate that I am talented. I know in my heart that I am awesome.

I don’t waste time and effort trying to influence situations at home and at work. I accept that I do not have the ability to control 99% of things.

I have never been weighed down by deep and intimate failure. These were just opportunities to learn.

I am not often told I should relax and learn how to be more leisurely. Making time for myself comes naturally.

I am never too hard on myself, set the bar too high or set unrealistic expectations for myself. I give myself a break.

I give myself a break.

This is satire written by a recovering perfectionist who’s learning how to live better. For others who struggle with aspects of perfectionism, I leave you with this quote:

Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65 or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life…of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid?

It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let it happen.
— Anne Lamott