The Imperfection of Perfectionism

This week is significant. It’s when both our daughters head off to college. Because they start at the same time, husband Julian rightly suggested it was our youngest’s turn to have our support with the transition.

So our eldest, Izzy, left by plane, texting me from the Cleveland airport before I’d even finished my morning coffee.

Where did the years go? And what do future years have in store? There’s a twinge in my heart—feeling grateful for our 7-year-old: That’s 11 more years right there.

The transition to college was a reminder for me of those first days on campus so many years ago. It was exciting, scary, sickening, and exhilarating, all at the same time. Secretly, privately (of course) I considered myself to be quite intelligent. I arrived with thoughts, ideas, and things I wanted to share and create.

But there was a completely new vibe in the intensity, the level of conversation, and even the lack of fun, sort of? Did anyone want to play outdoor games during orientation? Wait, did you just correct my grammar? Really!?

Studying piano amplified all this. While not a student in the conservatory, I qualified to study with a faculty member. That was intimidating, and ironically made more so by the beautiful sounds in the hallway.

So perfect.

I remember a simmering sense of regret that reached a low boil of shame. A mixture of not practicing enough, not starting young enough. Not, not, not….

This feeling was not going to evaporate with the boil.

There’s always someone better, someone more talented, someone with better grammar, blah, blah, blah. As the boil reached overflow, a transformative conversation with my piano professor occurred. As memory serves, his words were: “When you’re in the practice room, there’s music to your right and music to your left. Don’t listen in either direction. Just look straight ahead and listen to you.”

Listening forward.

Is that what happens with perfectionism? That we hear so much of the noise around us, even more so now with social media, that we forget to hear internally?

What does our voice say about this? What are our thoughts?

Perfectionistic tendencies fight back. If we say it, will we be criticized? Ignored? Invalidated? Or get the eye roll?

Research tells us just how dangerous perfectionism is. It suggests that being exposed to expectations of being perfect over a long period of time can relate to suicidal ideation (Flett, et al., 2014).

And when perfectionism is paired with self-concealment (e.g., when someone actively keeps negative thoughts and feelings from others) there can be risk without anyone knowing ahead of time. This may happen when a person with emotional perfectionism doesn’t want others to know about their suicidal thoughts (D’Agata & Holden, 2018; Flett, et al., 2014).

The Perfectionism Social Disconnection Model (PSDM) explores relationships between “perfectionistic self-presentation” (PSP) and “socially prescribed perfectionism” (SPP; Roxborough, et al., 2012). This work found that “interpersonal perfectionism components” such as social disconnection, social hopelessness, and being bullied had an impact on suicide risk (Roxborough, et al., 2012).

Perfectionism is a multi-layered issue that incorporates factors like sense of self, interpersonal relationships, and larger environmental factors. While there are no easy answers to this complex issue, here are some reflections.

Each year I supervise clinical psychology doctoral students who provide therapy at various clinical sites. One of the things we often talk about is the importance of trusting our clinical instinct. In the moment, when there’s a lot going on with a client, what does our clinical instinct tell us? In ignoring those instincts, we risk ignoring how our gut can instruct us.

We also talk about the importance of being vulnerable and giving ourselves permission to make mistakes. It’s OK to take a risk and learn from it.

Making mistakes is a part of learning.

But let’s not make it all about individual actions. It’s about the environment, too. What we can do in small ways to combat perfectionism? How can we shift the culture to support people in being who they are and in being with whom they want to be rather than filling an expectation?

After all, most of us do not get into our first-choice college. That’s just a reality. Can we say, “It’s OK” It’s about what you make of the education you receive wherever you go.

And of course, therapy can provide support while engaging in this perfectionism-combatting process.

Nature has something to tell us about this.

How often does perfectionism fuel our attraction to perceptions about the shiny things in life: the “best” college, the “most” prestigious career, the “ultimate” home of our dreams, the “cool people” to hang out with.

Sometimes what’s shiniest isn’t the best.

Here’s where the watermelon comes in.

When we go to the grocery store to choose a watermelon for that last summer picnic, most likely we look for the shiniest one in the bin, assuming it’s the tastiest.

Think again.

For the best taste, we actually want to choose the dullest, least-shiny watermelon in the store. Why? The more dull, the more ripe, and the more delectable juicy watermelonyness inside.

I invite us to do our own research with an experiment. Let’s make two batches of our Watermelon and Lime Cooler, one with a dull watermelon and one with a shiny one, and see which tastes best (Clauss-Ehlers & Clauss-Ehlers, 2022).

And as our kids go off to college and the summer winds down, we can take a sip (pass a glass made with the dull version, please) and just breathe.

Watermelon and Lime Cooler

Ingredients

3 lb Sweet, seedless, rindless watermelon, plus 4 watermelon slices for garnish (the latter is optional)
Zest and juice of 1 lime
2 cups chilled sparkling or still water
Fresh mint leaves (optional)

Serves 4.

Directions

Set the sliced watermelon aside for garnish, if desired.

Cut 2 lb of the watermelon into cubes; you should have about 6 cups. Set aside.

Cut the rest of the watermelon into 1/4-inch dice; you should have about 1 cup. Spread the cup of quarter-inch diced watermelon on a baking sheet and freeze for at least 2 hours to create your watermelon ice cubes.

Meanwhile, in a food processor or blender, liquidize the cube watermelon, lime zest, and lime juice until very smooth. Transfer to a bowl and refrigerate for about 2 hours, or until chilled. When ready to serve your cooler, put your watermelon-lime mixture in a pitcher. Add the chilled sparkling or still water and stir to combine.

To serve, divide your frozen watermelon ice cubes into 4 glasses and pour the cooler over them. For an extra bit of fancy, you can garnish your drink with a slice of watermelon and a sprig of mint.

Go ahead: Be quenched and be healthy! All from the gorgeous imperfection of a dull watermelon.

If you or someone you love is contemplating suicide, seek help immediately. For help 24/7 dial 988 for the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, or reach out to the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741. To find a therapist near you, visit the Psychology Today Therapy Directory.