My children are my favorite humans.
They are loving, kind, creative, and funny. They have great memory for the smallest details and appreciate the littlest gestures. They respect teaching and learning in a very sincere way. They fill my days with joy and meaningful reflection. They have so much to offer the world around them.
...And they strive for perfection.
I see a battle of perfection ensuing in my house. It manifests itself in the way I correct my children over that smallest detail or make "suggestions" when they show me their creative works. I feel it in my bones when I fight the need to compare them to their relatives or even to myself at their age. This inner conflict makes itself known when they get an answer marked incorrect and they are embarrassed (though they performed well above what was expected). But mainly, I see it in the way they simply crumble when they have had an error in judgment. When they see they have disappointed us in any way or they repeated a mistake that we have discussed at length before, and I witness their tears and their unwillingness to simply forgive themselves - to offer themselves the Grace to be kids and to NOT be perfect. The battle rages when they look straight into my eyes and say "I am sorry I am not perfect. I want to be. Will you run out of forgiveness?"
They struggle daily with the lie that they HAVE to be the best. And they are not the only ones.
Sometimes I still do. Not in the ways that would have actually benefited me either - you see, my perfectionism didn't manifest itself in valedictorian status or a state title for the sports I played, or in published memoirs at a young age. I struggled with the idea of being perfect in a different way. My perfectionism was tied to legalism and the idea that God (and the world) needed me to be a perfect version of myself. It is a reality that I have had to face and come to terms with. And it has been hard. It has forced me to reflect on what I really thought about my place and purpose in life, and what I truly believed about God's character.
It made much of my faith journey a series of climbing mountains and marking off tasks on some sort of moral and spiritual checklist. I think that in my need to be perfect, in this context, I lost the willingness to give myself the room and space to grow. Perfectionism forced me to often keep quiet when I wanted to scream and to stay put when I wanted to give chase. I am not sure I believed in the idea of spiritual Grace when it came to myself - for most of my life. Legalism is rooted in this ridiculous illusion of being deserving of God through works and law. The pressures of my culture and the church created a hard shell of "polished" beliefs and ideology, but left me inside a swirled mess of soft peaks and melted puddles of emotion and insincerity.
I never saw myself as a work in progress; I instead believed I had to be a finished and perfect product. I thought this is what was wanted of me. This nagging need and a deep desire to distance myself from it almost derailed my life, but Grace was extended to me in a very real way. Marriage and motherhood have taught me that perfection is not the result of a life well lived. Forgiveness and compassion are often birthed through the experience and knowledge of failures. Perfectionism brings either loads of self-doubt and feeling unfulfilled or fleeting moments of self-pride that never last long enough.
My children deserve better. I do not want them to wait so long to experience the freedom of accepting the beauty in imperfection. I do not want them to carry the burden of having to please everybody all the time or being the best at everything or believing that love must always be earned.
Even as I write this, I struggle with what this means for me as I raise them.
How do I push them, but not too hard? How do I make sure that they strive to reach their full potential? How do I not grimace the first time I see something other than an A on a report card?
A part of me has been raised with this cultural pride that we are over-achievers, that we can be the model minority, that we must push ourselves harder and achieve more than the average person. But these times and these days have reminded me of what is important. Right now, my children are children. I want them to try new things and find what they love. I want them to simply have fun when they experience new opportunities. I want them to be comfortable with not being the best. I want them to do well for themselves and not to simply please those they feel are watching.
People pleasing is another component of perfectionism that is a bottomless pit of disappointment and instability. I want them to understand that life isn't always about finishing first, but it is about using our resources, our talents, and our gifts to help others get to the finish line, too.
Sometimes coming in first does not give you the feeling of satisfaction you thought it would.
Sometimes crossing off another task on a moral checklist doesn't assure you the way you hoped.
Striving for perfection stunts our growth. It is too heavy a weight, mentally and emotionally.
It tells us that nothing we ever do is good enough, that there is always one more finish line to cross, one more thing to check off a list, one more tightrope to walk, one more person that needs to be appeased. It poisons our intentions, our motivations, and the value we see in ourselves.
The need to be perfect stalks our every move, even our victories, and reduces them to an insignificant stepping stone on the path to reach an unrealistic and unattainable peak.
It convinces us that if we aren't polished, we aren't beautiful and that rough edges are not as stunning as smoothed sides. It tells us that transition and phases are wastes of time because we must be finished, always.
But perfectionism ignores that gemstones that have never been touched still catch the light and that jagged cliffs are still beautiful against a sunset. Perfectionism ignores the complex process of metamorphosis -- between caterpillar and butterfly -- the awkward necessity of a chrysalis.
So I say to my girls, forgiveness has no limits, mistakes are necessary, and you are beautifully and wonderfully made. Nothing you do will make me love you more or less. There is no mistake you can't come back from. Learn from them and keep going. Be encouraging, not just to others but to yourself, too. Life is not a series of checklists, it is a dynamic journey of growth. Sometimes it is obvious and easy, sometimes it requires reflection and failure.
Try to remember that each stage is needed. You will grow and change countless times throughout your life, dreaming up new possibilities and sometimes feeling like you have fallen short. But I will be here for this journey, for the beginning all the way to the end of each chapter.
Experience the metamorphosis. Not every stage is going to look perfect or be perfect, but by the end you will fly to whatever heights you feel moved to, and at whatever pace you are divinely directed.
Fight the need to be perfect, girls.
Please know that seeing you grow and change has given me the strength and courage to do the same.
They are loving, kind, creative, and funny. They have great memory for the smallest details and appreciate the littlest gestures. They respect teaching and learning in a very sincere way. They fill my days with joy and meaningful reflection. They have so much to offer the world around them.
...And they strive for perfection.
I see a battle of perfection ensuing in my house. It manifests itself in the way I correct my children over that smallest detail or make "suggestions" when they show me their creative works. I feel it in my bones when I fight the need to compare them to their relatives or even to myself at their age. This inner conflict makes itself known when they get an answer marked incorrect and they are embarrassed (though they performed well above what was expected). But mainly, I see it in the way they simply crumble when they have had an error in judgment. When they see they have disappointed us in any way or they repeated a mistake that we have discussed at length before, and I witness their tears and their unwillingness to simply forgive themselves - to offer themselves the Grace to be kids and to NOT be perfect. The battle rages when they look straight into my eyes and say "I am sorry I am not perfect. I want to be. Will you run out of forgiveness?"
They struggle daily with the lie that they HAVE to be the best. And they are not the only ones.
Sometimes I still do. Not in the ways that would have actually benefited me either - you see, my perfectionism didn't manifest itself in valedictorian status or a state title for the sports I played, or in published memoirs at a young age. I struggled with the idea of being perfect in a different way. My perfectionism was tied to legalism and the idea that God (and the world) needed me to be a perfect version of myself. It is a reality that I have had to face and come to terms with. And it has been hard. It has forced me to reflect on what I really thought about my place and purpose in life, and what I truly believed about God's character.
It made much of my faith journey a series of climbing mountains and marking off tasks on some sort of moral and spiritual checklist. I think that in my need to be perfect, in this context, I lost the willingness to give myself the room and space to grow. Perfectionism forced me to often keep quiet when I wanted to scream and to stay put when I wanted to give chase. I am not sure I believed in the idea of spiritual Grace when it came to myself - for most of my life. Legalism is rooted in this ridiculous illusion of being deserving of God through works and law. The pressures of my culture and the church created a hard shell of "polished" beliefs and ideology, but left me inside a swirled mess of soft peaks and melted puddles of emotion and insincerity.
I never saw myself as a work in progress; I instead believed I had to be a finished and perfect product. I thought this is what was wanted of me. This nagging need and a deep desire to distance myself from it almost derailed my life, but Grace was extended to me in a very real way. Marriage and motherhood have taught me that perfection is not the result of a life well lived. Forgiveness and compassion are often birthed through the experience and knowledge of failures. Perfectionism brings either loads of self-doubt and feeling unfulfilled or fleeting moments of self-pride that never last long enough.
My children deserve better. I do not want them to wait so long to experience the freedom of accepting the beauty in imperfection. I do not want them to carry the burden of having to please everybody all the time or being the best at everything or believing that love must always be earned.
Even as I write this, I struggle with what this means for me as I raise them.
How do I push them, but not too hard? How do I make sure that they strive to reach their full potential? How do I not grimace the first time I see something other than an A on a report card?
A part of me has been raised with this cultural pride that we are over-achievers, that we can be the model minority, that we must push ourselves harder and achieve more than the average person. But these times and these days have reminded me of what is important. Right now, my children are children. I want them to try new things and find what they love. I want them to simply have fun when they experience new opportunities. I want them to be comfortable with not being the best. I want them to do well for themselves and not to simply please those they feel are watching.
People pleasing is another component of perfectionism that is a bottomless pit of disappointment and instability. I want them to understand that life isn't always about finishing first, but it is about using our resources, our talents, and our gifts to help others get to the finish line, too.
Sometimes coming in first does not give you the feeling of satisfaction you thought it would.
Sometimes crossing off another task on a moral checklist doesn't assure you the way you hoped.
Striving for perfection stunts our growth. It is too heavy a weight, mentally and emotionally.
It tells us that nothing we ever do is good enough, that there is always one more finish line to cross, one more thing to check off a list, one more tightrope to walk, one more person that needs to be appeased. It poisons our intentions, our motivations, and the value we see in ourselves.
The need to be perfect stalks our every move, even our victories, and reduces them to an insignificant stepping stone on the path to reach an unrealistic and unattainable peak.
It convinces us that if we aren't polished, we aren't beautiful and that rough edges are not as stunning as smoothed sides. It tells us that transition and phases are wastes of time because we must be finished, always.
But perfectionism ignores that gemstones that have never been touched still catch the light and that jagged cliffs are still beautiful against a sunset. Perfectionism ignores the complex process of metamorphosis -- between caterpillar and butterfly -- the awkward necessity of a chrysalis.
So I say to my girls, forgiveness has no limits, mistakes are necessary, and you are beautifully and wonderfully made. Nothing you do will make me love you more or less. There is no mistake you can't come back from. Learn from them and keep going. Be encouraging, not just to others but to yourself, too. Life is not a series of checklists, it is a dynamic journey of growth. Sometimes it is obvious and easy, sometimes it requires reflection and failure.
Experience the metamorphosis. Not every stage is going to look perfect or be perfect, but by the end you will fly to whatever heights you feel moved to, and at whatever pace you are divinely directed.
Fight the need to be perfect, girls.
Please know that seeing you grow and change has given me the strength and courage to do the same.
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