“But I thought you had it all figured out???” I said partially in awe, partially in relief, and if honest, mostly in disappointment, to my teacher. “No, I am still learning this stuff, just like you.” Oh. (Insert frowny face. There is no Santa Claus. A pedestal crumbled.) I thought my teacher had it all figured out. I thought that since he was teaching me, he would be perfect. I thought I could just follow him, and expect 100% from him, and have him be my perfect model. I thought wrong. He was a human being. Just like me. Learning. Mastering his craft. Growing. Failing. Shining. Screwing up. Recovering and “climbing back on”. There was no perfect. There was no “done”. And after I processed my grief…. After I made peace with my teacher’s humanness… Once I “got” this…. really “got” it. I was liberated. Are you in the trap? The trap of expected perfection or projected perfection? Expected Perfection: You expect perfection from people, especially your teachers, and anything underneath that (whatever “perfect” is anyway”) is a disappointment to you, a reason to attack them, a reason to write them off, and maybe even make you feel better about yourself. Superiority is seductive to the expectant. While some of the expectant experience disappointment, others find delight in knocking people down a peg when they find they’re not perfect. (You know the type, nasty.) Projected Perfection: You feel that you have to be perfect, so you compromise your authenticity and inner peace to do things “right”, have things look good, make sure no one finds out you’re flawed. And you feel tremendous shame when they do. It’s a trap. It’s an exhausting, debilitating, creativity compromising, connection breaking, dehumanizing trap. You get careful, play it safe, play it quiet. And spend a ton of mental energy keeping your stuff “together”. (Note, you may also walk around expecting perfection from those around you, double dose of insanity coming up.) Which one do you fall in? Maybe a little bit of both? I find most of us have little bits and pieces of both. Some have a ton. Some have it pretty mastered. Some use it as a bat against others, and an excuse to play it safe. Pick your poison. I’ve experienced being on both sides. This morning I got the gift of being expected upon and it brought me back to this topic and my experiences of “expected and projected perfectionism” upon my teachers and mentors. I can name multiple stories where they just didn’t “add up”. Why? Because they showed me their humanness. Years later, after being in pain about this, I realized that that humanness was actually what helped me grow the most. When my teachers showed their humanness, when they showed their quirks, their tender underbellies, their vulnerabilities, they gave me more space to step into mine. And that is where the real growth happens. Years ago one of my teachers, who I literally thought was perfect (yes, “literally”), made a mistake. I was devastated. Yes, I. Never mind how difficult it must have been for her. It was all about me. I was devastated. Disappointed. She was clearly a fraud. I told my peers she wasn’t as good as I thought. About a week later she and I discussed it. (I fortunately had some inkling of wisdom to get curious and express with her. I wanted to understand.) She listened. And then she said, “Anese, I am learning with you. I am on my own path. I may be quite a bit ahead of you, but I’m on my path too. Contribute to me.” “Contribute” to her? I couldn’t see how? She was my teacher. I had nothing. Six months later she passed away. I was devastated, but now for the right reasons. A year later, I was out for a run. Our last conversation ran through my mind again, and I stopped cold. I could have contributed to her, but the pedestal I had her on was so great, I couldn’t see how. And the disappointment I had when she fell from it, so strong, that I couldn’t find why. That is the poison of perfection. Projected. Expected. Whatever. It debilitates. Now, in my sweaty state, I saw it all. And in the middle of that Chicago road, I cried. And my relationship with perfection was changed forever. Here’s what I saw… my expectation of her never let me see her as a person. My expection of perfection for her was so strong, I literally could not connect with her humanness. I’ve since come to realize that what was really going on was my expectation of my own perfection, my absolute lack of self-compassion that had me project the hope and expectation of perfection onto another human being. It had nothing to do with her, I was imperfect, and I wasn’t comfortable with that imperfection. I said I was. I tauted “authenticity” and self deprication left and right, but underneath it all, I wasn’t okay with it. I projected the energy of perfection onto my teacher. And it cost me connection. And learning. And that gift is likely the greatest gift she ever gave me. This learning would, and will, serve me for a life time. As soon as I got “right” with my own imperfections, the happier I was. And the more I could connect with my teachers. The more I could really HEAR what they had to say. And really learn from them. They were people. As soon as I got “right” and actually learned to love my own imperfections, the better I was with my son (at the time I only had one child), and when my daughter came along, thank goodness, I was better equipped for her. It doesn’t mean it’s handled. I still get flirts of perfectionism. It still teases me. It’s most often when I’m up against my own edge, or feeling really vulnerable, or stepping into a bigger “game” that the perfectionism monster comes. I notice the harder I am on myself, the harder I am on others. The harder I am on others, the harder I am on myself. It all relates. You? In the work that I do, teaching “intentional energetic presence”, I help people show up more powerfully and effectively in their worlds so that they can create the impact they want. Their presence IS their impact. Once they have this, and once they get that they can INTEND what they want that to be, they have the keys to the kingdom. In IEP, there’s no room for perfectionism. It just doesn’t work. It’s never ending journey that needs care and attention and continuous love and awareness and blind spot identification and integration and and and… it’s never done. How gorgeous. That being said, there is this funny little thing that happens every once in a while, where I come across someone who expects perfection from me in this area, and while my ego rallies to “make it so”, my spirit invites the remembrance of the poison of perfection and that somehow settles my ego, helps me get more present, and invites me to learn from whatever “ping/attack/expectation/projection” whatever, has just presented itself. Should you be bumping up against this… in any way shape or form… It’s cool. It’s all good. Breathe. Your presence is your impact. Your imperfection is your beauty and your fuel for continuous growth and learning and connection with us other human beings. How do you handle perfection or your lack of it? How does it serve you? Get in the way for you? Where do you struggle? Love you. axc. Perfection is exhausting. Whether you’re expecting it, or projecting it. Try it again. What’s your default? For those of us who get seduced and ego-bullied into falling into the “projected perfectionism” trap, the question to ask is “why”? Why fall in? For those of us who get mileage out of the expected perfectionism trap, the question to ask is, “what?” What is the learning you’re missing? What is putting this person on a pedestal doing for you? What do you miss in connection with them? There are three kinds of people when it comes to perfect:
- Those who are pissed off when you’re not. And will either just send disappointed angry hater energy your way OR make themselves feel better by pointing it out (and usually in public ways).
- Those who are relieved when you are imperfect and authentic. And will delight in your humanness, giving themselves even more permission, space and even compassion for their own imperfections.
- And those who are neutral, they just know that we’re all human beings, they hold compassion and appreciation for authenticity and all that comes with it, and their radar actually goes off when anyone even pretends to be perfect. (Though that radar, if they’ve done their “work” is usually a radar of compassion and understanding.)
Let’s be honest, number 1 sucks. Let’s be honest, perfection is BS. Let’s be honest, whether you’re trying to be perfect right now. Or holding someone else to it. Release. You are better than that. To be on the giving or receiving end of it. (Even the hater loses here, their energy is depleted, toxic hater energy drains and ripples). For the receiver, it’s just a bummer. In this case, the receiver needs better IEP than ever. (The give needs it to, but the receiver needs it even more.) Why? So that when the haters come, or judgement runs, or anything is projected upon you that is simply not yours but rather a reflection of the other person who is projecting his/her own poison upon you (especially via unproductive dis-compassionate feedback), you have to be able to hold your space. I bump up against this all the time. Because of what I teach, there’s sometimes (definitely not always thank goodness) an expectation I show up perfectly all the time. My presence, my self-care, my life, my impact, my words, my marriage, my parenting… if I bought into this, I would implode (or go hide in my bed all day). But it’s easy to get suckered into. And it’s easy to forget. What the heck am I talking about? I used to work in the fitness industry. When clients would find out I ate ice cream, or skipped a workout, some would be relieved at my humanness. Some disappointed. Some, who assumed I had this whole thing figured out, would “cover up” their own humanness to look good with me in how they ate, how they trained, how they lived. There was often an air of disconnection because they didn’t want to show themselves to me – to someone who might be “perfect”. When they’d learn of my own struggles and humanness, those airs would melt away, and now we could get somewhere. So I learned a long time ago to not only release perfect, but to actually make sure I almost went out of my way, to be real and even, gasp, share my imperfections. Many disagreed with this, I’m the teacher, I best have it all “perfect”. I completely disagreed. I’m the teacher, I best share that I am human and learning while teaching, walking my talk. This pisses some people off. I just got a great hater review from an interview I did recently about a verbal tic I have. Ironically, I’d even mentioned working with verbal tics in the interview. And here I was. It was a new one. One that I hadn’t been aware of. The feedback was helpful, the delivery was not. That good old expectation of “perfect” hitting me in the face again. And what is perfect anyway? Please. Life is short. The energy of perfectionism is a killer. Release and be free.