Permission to Be Human (hope for the perfectionist part 1)

I am a perfectionist.

If you wonder if you are, too, that probably means that you are not. Perfectionism is hard to hide.

For me, the problem with this label is that I am completely aware that perfect is unattainable. And most of the time I’m not setting out for perfection. It’s not usually an obvious goal.

But there is this little tug when I’m doing anything – a voice you could say – that speaks dissatisfaction.

Issues have cropped up in my life recently that were hinting deeper investigation into “the voice”. But it was sealed when in a moment of conflict, my dramatic eight year-old bellowed,

“But we’re not perfect!”

And that statement rang and rang and rang in my ears the rest of that day. Because in my heart I know this -- no one is perfect. But in my head…well, that might be a different story.

I am all about grace. I have learned its beauty firsthand. But grace and disappointment often walk hand in hand. And that can be very hard.

Grace is almost always easier to give to someone else. But what about me?

Do I give myself permission to be human?

Honestly, I don’t think so.

I have placed a weight of responsibility and expectations on myself. And I carry it with me into relationships.

Perfectionists also tend to be control freaks who want things to be just so. I think because that’s what feels safe. And for me, there are reasons why I self-protect — valid reasons why safe and secure feel like oxygen to me.

But if that’s ripped away – well, I sometimes wonder how I’ll breathe?

To be continued…


To read Part 2, click here.


Linking today with the Soli Deo Gloria Party at Finding Heaven.