Perfectionist. I find it utterly amazing how one simple word can define most of my twenty years of life, yet largely fail to embody how this enduring quality became my own worst enemy. Growing up, I naïvely believed that being a perfectionist was something to aspire to become, manifesting in an unattainable goal I so desperately wanted. I somehow convinced myself that perfection was a reassuring force that would keep the incessant surges of anxiety and unease I felt at bay. From an early age, I was always praised for being the studious and conscientious child, the diligent student who had to have every homework assignment or project flawless and error-free. However, even as this meticulous monitoring system kept me up into the wee hours of the night, the end results somehow never seemed to come close to my unwavering, steadfast standards. Nothing ever seemed good enough.
I would critically analyze miniscule details for hours on end, becoming fixated on irrelevant and trivial features that I just could not comprehend letting go of. Crazily enough, I believed I was compelled by an imaginary force to fix and alter things over and over again or run the risk of some horrendous event occurring. I continued on this destructive pathway throughout high school, in true denial of how my constant desire and irrevocable need for perfection was in reality making me miserable. This quality put a constant strain on my relationships with family and friends, somehow always ending with me lashing out at those closest to me for failing to meet my unrealistic expectations. When I reached UCLA, the constant academic pressures and caliber expected from its students only added fuel to the fire and escalated my growing demand for perfection from others and myself. That is when I realized my dream of perfection was in fact, a truly waking nightmare.
Although difficult, I am slowly beginning to let go of the need for perfection, which for so long consumed my identity. I am a happier, stronger individual now and see the absurdity in my prior actions and beliefs. I must admit that each day is a constant mental battle full of insecurities and self-doubt, but I can now wholeheartedly embrace and be proud of the individual I am today, imperfections and all. Free from the inner-imprisonment of perfection, I am able to recognize that true beauty and perfection can be found in the flaws within all of us.
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