The Illusion of Perfection
As a kid, I was seen as gifted and put into several programs to nurture my creativity and intelligence. It was an amazing and unusual gift amidst the public school system in Salt Lake City, Utah in the mid-70’s.
I was tall for my age, strong for my age, smart for my age, and intuitive. I was often mistaken for simply being 3-5 years older than I really was in elementary, and by the time I was 12 years old, I was in high school and could pass for a college student.
Despite all of the constant reflections that I had the ability to stretch outside the usual boxes, I suffered from some serious self-worth issues, and one of the consequences was that I thought I had to be perfect just to be worthy of having a human life.
Getting a stain on my clothing, breaking a shoelace, or experiencing anything that caused me to look anything other than “perfect” would create great anxiety and I would need to remove myself from the public eye.
While this striving for perfection pushed me to accomplish some pretty amazing things academically, it also led to some severe impairments. As I got a little older and quit winning whatever contest or competition I entered, I quit pushing myself. Basically, if there was a chance I could fail, ESPECIALLY if there was any chance I would let anyone down, I wouldn’t try.
I was given all sorts of invitations, like doing the photography for an album cover, applying for residency as an artist in New York, and other countless and now forgotten opportunities that were not even considered because I knew I had a chance of failing and even worse, disappointing someone else.
So, for a long time, I had the 9-5 job, paid all my bills on time or early, and only did things that I knew I could excel at.
What was the consequence of making a public mistake? Deep down in my soul, it felt like a death sentence. Something I couldn’t even allow myself to ponder, it was so painful.
Then, I came to a moment where everything shifted. Ultimately, it was a great blessing, but as it unfolded, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.
I discovered that my husband was addicted to methamphetamines. For a while I just thought I was going crazy as every conversation with him went in chaotic circles, but finally, I realized that he had fallen into a drug-induced paranoid schizophrenia.
I won’t share the details because they are truly dark and toxic to recount, but in an instant, I had to rely on the help of others to make it out of the literal booby-traps that had been set up by this man who had been my beloved.
I needed a restraining order, I needed places to stay as my home had been destroyed and filled with dangerous snares and I needed guidance to navigate all of the bizarre hazards and that had been set up to keep everyone out of the toxic waste den my soon-to-be ex-husband had created. It was the nightmare version of “A Beautiful Mind.”
Everyone knew everything about the darkest, most shameful part of my life. I had nowhere to hide.
I learned, out of necessity, to humble myself, allow myself to be human, have needs, stop pretending anything in my life was anything close to perfect, and start getting help.
Not just from friends . . . I started getting visions, again. This time, they were very specific and in the form of Sacred Feminine Archetypes. At first, it was Kali Ma, then Spider Woman, and then the Muse . . . little by little, as I put my life together, and surrendered myself to the fact that I was not in fact a lone wolf, able to live my life without a misstep, I really started to live.
I embraced my new relationship with the Goddess in all of her many forms, and I started to learn how to embrace being human and making mistakes.
I’ve said “yes” to a lot more, said “I’m sorry” to a lot more (because I can actually SEE when I cause harm, instead of needing to turn a blind eye to it out of overwhelming fear of my own judgments.
I have definitely made mistakes, and I have definitely let people down, but I have also lived a life full of adventure, and even more important, a life of learning and growth. I would have done very little learning and growing had I not broken through the cage of perfectionism.
Playing it safe all the time is not the path of a leader or a change maker, and I have both in my bones and blood.
I still hate to disappoint people and fall short, but I know, without a doubt, I’ve been able to help far more than I’ve ever let down because I was willing to push the edges of the illusion of perfection and really live a human life full of folly and grace.
