The sneakiness of perfectionism
#4 Needless self-imposed rules, and the power of simply noticing where you're going wrong
Hi, friend! 💌
I didn’t send out a letter last week. I wasn’t planning on missing a week, but I was determined not to be hard on myself for not having anything ready. I was determined not to try to rush and throw something together, or stress myself out about it. I felt bad, but as I’ve said many times now, I am really working on my perfectionism.
Funnily enough, I wanted the week before that to be a writing-filled week, yet I hardly did any writing at all (hence the lack of posting on here). I wasn’t going to post on Instagram, I was just going to focus on writing and creating. I love sharing, but it can also sometimes feel a little frantic, I want to enjoy it even more, so I was going to try and “get ahead” to put some distance between the writing and the sharing.
This didn’t work out, which frustrated me at first, but I eventually realised that maybe I just needed some space, and I do think it was for the best.
I did some painting that week. 10 minutes of painting — I know it doesn’t sound like much. I have been wanting to incorporate painting into my regular routine ever since coming home from being in hospital for a month at the end of 2022, and having to reset everything and get into new rhythms. I love painting, but it was one of the things that unfortunately got pushed to the side when I needed to sacrifice even more than I already had.
I’ve been struggling to process and decompress from some things that have happened recently. All the methods I usually use, like expressing myself through writing and communicating with my support system, were just not cutting it because I couldn’t find the words. This meant I was reaching for unhealthy coping mechanisms instead (i.e. bottling everything up).
Needless, self-imposed rules
I was listening to Marlee Grace’s podcast Common Shapes, an episode called “Art as Service” about sharing your art, and honestly, I don’t even remember what they said, but whatever it was created this lightbulb moment in me — it reminded me of how painting used to help me to process things. In a time when I was largely unable to write, painting while listening to music helped me to be very present, and allowed my mind to just tick over in this really healthy way, processing distressing memories, making decisions, but calmly. If I began to feel upset, I’d hum along to the music, change colours, focus on the brush. Remembering this made me wonder if painting might be just what I need this time.
But then, the resistance started: “I can’t even get the stuff out myself” “I’m going to have to disturb my mum” “I’m such a nuisance” “why disturb her when I’ll only be able to do it for a few minutes”.
As difficult as it was, I took a deep breath, noticed these thoughts, waved them off, and called my mum, anyway. I explained my plan to her, and she very happily got my stuff out for me.
Somewhere in those 10 minutes I spent painting, I noticed that even though reducing as much restriction as is possible in my life has been a main focus for me for a long time, I had been restricting myself by imposing this needless rule that just because I couldn’t incorporate painting into my regular routine, this meant I wasn’t allowed to do it even if I did find a few minutes where I had the space and energy to do so. I had been depriving myself of painting, a thing that I love, even in the moments where I could do it for a little while, just because I couldn’t do it all the time. What sense does that make?
That’s perfectionism for you.
I made a promise to myself that day, one I worded and shared on Instagram that week:
“The desire to want to incorporate something into my every day doesn’t mean it’s actually possible, but that’s okay. If it’s a resource that increases my wellbeing, I just have to do it when I’m able to, for as long as I’m able to. 10mins of painting every few months is better than depriving myself completely because I can’t figure out how to make it fit in regularly with everything else I have going on”
The power of noticing
Being someone who has this kind of life where it’s so necessary to always, in a very self-compassionate way, look for ways to do better, make life easier, more joyful, making my practices easier and more streamlined, reduce restriction, etc. I’ve learned that there is so much power in simply noticing where we’re going wrong. Okay, of course the power is more in what you do afterwards, but you can’t get there unless you notice it in the first place, and you can’t notice it without being open to the idea that you might be going wrong somewhere.
Perfectionism can really sneak up on you, and infiltrate all areas of your life: your habits, your routines, your relationships, and you constantly have to be on the look out for those needless “shoulds” and “musts” you might be imposing on yourself, making your own life harder. It’s extremely freeing finding them and knowing you can work on them.
And even though this piece is a bit of a rambly mess with no sort of takeaway message, deciding to share it anyway is another anti-perfectionism step for me. It was more about simply showing up after not doing so. It’ll connect with someone, or maybe it won’t, and maybe it doesn’t matter. It’s definitely helped me to just take a deep breath and show up as my imperfect self.
Finding my feet on Substack has been more difficult than I expected it to be, but I have so much I want to write about, so many stories to tell, and I cannot wait. My mind is bursting, and I am very excited for the pieces I have planned for this month.
See you next Monday!
Lots of love,
Cyrene💘
Hi Cyrene. I, for one, am so grateful that you did show up as your imperfect self here.
I would disagree that there is no takeaway message from this piece though. I'm taking away A LOT. You've helped me to identify that perfectionism has been sneaking up on me a lot more than I've realised recently. Your words are encouraging me to notice that I've been having an idea and then talking myself out of it pretty swiftly! Lots for me to reflect on thanks to your invitation and honesty here.
Soo glad to hear that you've been painting as well and how much of an outlet this is for you. This is such a self compassionate thing for you to gift yourself. Take care and I hope this is a gentle and creative week for you x
Okay, this comment got a little rambly.
The idea that if we can't do something regularly, we shouldn't do it at all is something I'd never considered before, but is definitely something I struggle with. I have a lot of hobbies and very limited energy, which means I usually use any spare energy on the same hobbies when I feel able to do something, even if I'd rather do something else. Admittedly part of this is a lot of my craft stuff is boxed up from when I moved, waiting to be sorted and organised, so when I want to do a specific thing that I don't already have handy it is tempting to 'wait till everything is sorted', which is unlikely to ever happen. Now, if I want to do a certain hobby that is packed away, I start organising/sorting the boxes instead (if I'm physically able to). Obviously it's not as enjoyable as doing the craft, but it means I'm no longer waiting for a mythical future where I've had enough energy and motivation to actually sort everything, but taking a tiny step towards it being ready for the future.
There is also the temptation to do what we 'should' do, over what we want to do, especially when we have limited energy/time. I love baking and cooking, but often if I have the energy to plan and do it I usually choose cooking now because it's healthier, because I can only do it so rarely. That's fine, but sometimes I want to bake, and I shouldn't let myself feel guilty for baking instead of cooking (because the guilt is coming from me, no one else). This can go for how we spend our energy/time in general, doing what we think we should be doing, instead of making space for what we want to do, things that will bring us joy. Life becomes a lot less bearable when we don't allow ourselves to do things that bring us joy, even if only sometimes.