Perfectionism Wasn't the Flex I Thought It Was
- Jill Carnell
- Nov 4
- 5 min read
I was in undergrad in the mid - late 1990s, and in the latter half of that time, I first encountered Martha Stewart. It may have been when I saw an episode of the original version of her show on PBS, but I can't remember for sure. I do recall that I was mesmerized by how she lived -- her kitchen, filled with interesting ingredients and pots and pans and appliances that belonged in a restaurant. Her garden, full of beautifully sculpted beds of gorgeous plants. Her organizing tips, gift wrapping ideas -- all the "good things" that she'd share in the segments that always ended with her saying, "It's a good thing!". Her magazine was where I first saw Cinderella and Lumina pumpkins, with an entire article about techniques and tools for carving pumpkins. Until then, I carved a pumpkin by borrowing a knife or two from my mom's kitchen.
I devoured every issue of her magazine, initially buying each copy as it was published and eventually subscribing when I got my first big-girl co-op job. I kept them and moved them back and forth from campus to Louisville, again and again as I completed co-op and school semesters. When I got my very own apartment in Louisville, one of the first things I did was find a glass bottle and a pour spout so I could decant my dish soap into it because that's what Martha did. Decades later, it's still sitting next to the kitchen sink. The collection of magazines, though, got recycled when we moved into our current house in 2014. By then, I was clear on how to chase perfection. I was also exhausted from the never ending chase of it.
As a chubby, middle class, Midwestern, Gen X, "gifted and talented" White girl, I was probably pre-disposed to a fascination with Martha Stewart because I was raised to be a "good girl." That included always getting it "right" and never upsetting anyone. The unspoken notion, I think, was that "good girls" have a certain kind of safety in the pack. I was never popular, but I wasn't shunned either. The better I was at conforming to the norms, the safer I was. So it's no wonder that I found a playbook in the pages of Martha Stewart Living, where she and her staff laid out the framework for the perfect life, along with recipes, step-by-step instructions, and contact information so I could procure what I needed to do it for myself.
I spent most of my 20s and 30s chasing perfection in both my personal and professional life, and from time to time, I think I actually achieved it, for a moment. The thing about perfection is it was never enough. Maybe it's human nature, or maybe it's my conditioning, but I was always focused on the next thing. Could the next project or meeting or case or meal or holiday celebration be just a little more perfect? Chasing perfection distracted me from what was happening right there in the moment. I was constantly criticizing myself, which morphed into criticizing others. It also kept me isolated and separate from others, even the people closest to me. It's easier to gloss over the imperfections when people are further away from me. Turns out, distracted and isolated are at cross purposes with connection.
The Full Catastrophe
I mentioned that I didn't move the curated collection of Martha Stewart Living magazines when we moved in 2014. I don't recall how long I'd been wondering "Is this really it?" but I was really starting to question how I was spending my time. I had the job I'd dreamed of and a family I loved, but that question lived in the back of my mind while I continued carrying on.
Then, in late summer/early autumn of 2016, after months of not feeling great but not feeling awful, my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Suddenly, all the "shoulds" that loudly filled my brain fell away. I got really clear about one thing, which was there was no longer a question mark about how much time I had left with my parents. Although we didn't have an exact number of days, weeks, or months, we knew time was of the essence. The one gift Dad's pancreatic cancer diagnosis gave me is clarity. I wasn't going to spend any more time, energy, and attention chasing perfection, which left me distracted and isolated. I realized that perfection wasn't working for me, but I still wanted to care for my family, do a good job at work, and be of service to my community. At the time, I didn't know what to call that, but now I know that it's called healthy striving or excellence.
Instead of worrying about perfect, which is really about me worrying about what others think of me, I focused on what was needed in the moment for all of us to navigate Dad's disease. Sometimes that meant I went to work. Sometimes it meant I took Dad to chemo. Sometimes it meant I stayed with Dad while Mom got some respite from caregiving. Sometimes it meant I flew with Mom and Dad while Mark and Pat drove to the vacation rental. I stopped sweating the small stuff, both at work and at home. I took nothing for granted. I looked just enough ahead that everything didn't feel last minute, but I didn't get too far ahead of myself or get too fixated on the future. It was about making every moment the best that it could be, in the midst of living with an aggressive cancer, rather than perfect.
How This Affects You Now
Dad died on January 5, 2018. We had about 14 months from diagnosis to his death, and that time left an indelible mark. I realized that even though I never thought I was following in my mom's or dad's professional footsteps -- a teacher and pharmacist, respectively -- I learned that the work I do now is actually part teacher, part healer. That's what Flourishing Club and our CLE offerings are about. I see so many legal professionals just like you who are in the same spot I was in all those years ago. Not awful, not great, wondering "Is this really it?". Maybe it is. Maybe it's not.
I do know this -- perfectionism wasn't the flex I thought it was, and I doubt t's serving you as well as excellence or healthy striving could. The tool I used to get from chasing perfection to excellence is Self-Compassion. I learned it and practice it, and you can, too. Loretta and I will show you how in this month's Flourishing Club and CLE.
You don't have to wait like I did for your own Full Catastrophe before you explore another way. If you're feeling not awful but not great, you can explore options for navigating it without blowing up your life. Take the first step and join me at one (or more) of this month's events.
Beautiful post, friend 💜