From One Perfectionist Parent to Another
(This is my Daring Greatly Book Club, Week Seven – Chapter 7)Perfectionism is a badge of honor in our culture. It’s the weakness that we’re proud to admit; like the answer, “Oh, I suppose I work too hard” when an interviewer wants me to identify a growing edge.If the definition of perfectionism is “working hard until something is done right,” then it’s understandable why perfectionism is preferable as a weakness to, say… anything else.I have never heard of a Perfectionists Anonymous meeting, but can you imagine how that might go?“Hi, my name is Steve, and I’m a perfectionist (Hi Steve). This week I was on time to everything, my kids made their own lunches, I lost five pounds, and I’m going to give the best story of anyone in this room today.” Brene Brown defines perfectionism very differently: “Perfectionism is not teaching them (your children) how to strive for excellence or be their best selves. Perfectionism is teaching them to value what other people think over what they think or how they feel. It’s teaching them to perform, please, and prove” (222).Shame is fuel for the perfectionist. We drink it as a smoothie for breakfast, chop it up on our salad for lunch, and drink four glasses of it after dinner to wind down. Shame is the reminder that I’m not worthy of love and belonging as I actually am, so shame keeps me on the treadmill of trying hard and succeeding, ravenous for the approval of others. But shame is a merciless taskmaster. It motivates by whispering lies, and with every lie we believe, the fog gets thicker, and it gets harder to find our way home.An evocative picture of shame is represented in The Two Towers, in the form of Grima Wormtongue, the slimy chief advisor to King Theoden of Rohan.
It is interesting to note how Gandalf treats Grima once he sees what has become of Theoden, who was a shell of himself after years of listening to Grima’s foul whispers. There is no compassion, only swift rebuke and action.“The wise speak only of what they know, Grima son of Galmod. A witless worm you have become. Therefore be silent, and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a serving-man till the lightning falls.” And with that, Grima is kicked out of the hall, and Theoden becomes whole once again.I am a perfectionist, and I walk around in a fog of anxiety and insecurity that is almost paralyzing at times. Don’t be fooled by my charming and confident exterior. Preaching that you are loved and valued by God for free is one thing; living it is another.After a recent bout of crippling shame, I reached out to some friends, and did what perfectionists don’t do, which is tell the truth of what was actually happening in my life, with no shading or hiding.One of them texted me: “Shame is a liar; you’re a good man, and you, in this, will come forth as gold.”Another emailed me what he sees in me; a long, truthful email that drove the lies back.Another drove 30 miles to sit beside me before I preached last Saturday.Another printed out the Daring Greatly manifesto, laminated it, and put it on my car with a note that made me cry.And a group of my closest friends just listened to me for over an hour, as I poured out my shame recklessly but honestly, and as I struggled to make eye contact. But I knew I needed to say it more than I needed to appear perfect. I needed help. Perfectionists don’t ask for help.I couldn’t talk myself out of this bout of shame, I needed some friends with the Spirit of Gandalf to kick it out.Parents, this is really important work, because perfectionism is contagious. As Brene writes,“In a dozen years of studying worthiness, I’m convinced that perfectionism is actually contagious. If we struggle with being, living, and looking absolutely perfect, we might as well line our children up and slip those little perfectionism straightjackets right over their heads” (221). Yesterday, Mary and I took Isaac out to celebrate his sixth birthday. He loves Legos, and so we went to a coffee shop and sat with him while he finished building a set. Isaac can get frustrated and give up easily when he doesn’t know how to do something perfectly (sigh). But yesterday, we had fun together, and he finished building it. He did it by trying, failing a few times, asking for help, and getting encouraged by two people who think he’s the best six year old on the planet.
Building shame resilience is also contagious. We're going to be okay, friends. We're in it together. We're going to parent our kids imperfectly and learn lots of things along the way. Let's keep daring greatly. Remember, it is not the critic who counts...Photo Credit