Am I a Perfectionist?

Fifteen years ago, I would have said absolutely. Proudly perfectionist.

Not anymore. It started with an involuntary crash to my kitchen floor, collapsing into the gap between my reality and expectations.

I call it the not good enough gap.

Even when I meet my goal, I find something wrong with it. I tell myself I should have done it better or faster. If it seems too easy, I should have set a higher bar. Then I create my own not good enough gap.

Lots of people have high standards, but not everyone treats them the same way. Take my husband, for example. One day he asks me why I don't consider him a perfectionist.

"I have high standards," he says.

"What happens when you don't meet your expectations? Do you beat yourself up?"

"No. Why would I do that?"

"I expect to make mistakes. Especially when I'm doing something new. They're learning opportunities."

"Wait. What?"

I carefully plan to avoid making any mistakes, whether I'm doing something new or not. Mistakes feel like judgments eroding my sense of worth.

We have the same high standards but experience them completely differently.

Having high standards doesn't make me a perfectionist. Beating myself up when I don't meet them does. Never being satisfied when I meet them and moving on to the next thing and the next does.

Over time, I realize perfectionist is part of my identity while perfectionism is my strengths working against me. Drive and determination are strengths but not when they slide into 80-hour workweeks and unrelenting pressure that has me in the passenger seat, laptop open, three hours into our drive to California. I'm literally running on battery power and still unable to unplug.

That inner voice that critiques everything I do and tells me when it's not up to par actually wants to protect me. She still shows up. Now, I understand she's not trying to make me feel bad, and we talk through things differently now.

After doing some inner work, I take a perfectionist assessment. Although my standards are still in the perfectionist range, I'm friendly enough with my inner voice that I don't qualify on the beat myself up scale. So, if I'm not a perfectionist, what am I?

I don't want to call myself a recovering perfectionist, so I create the title Chief Ease of Excellence Officer in a company I founded. I also make up a new term: excellencist.

Those are still labels.

The not good enough gap doesn't consume me anymore. In fact, most of the time, it's filled. But when I stretch into something new, edges still show up. Instead of evidence that I'm not enough, it feels like an invitation to notice and integrate as part of my growth.

Am I still a perfectionist?

I'm simply Elizabeth.