Perfectionism, procrastination and promises to myself

Growing up I was (and still kind of am) a perfectionist. I wanted to feel like I was producing something of worth – something original and distinctly me. This was an ego-driven desire tangled with the want to do those around me proud. This feeling stretched from Christmas cards I would create for family members as a 12 year old to my reluctance to begin revision for my medical exams – because studying meant confronting what I didn’t know (which felt like and realistically was, a lot). I did get there eventually, but not without a stressful couple of months beforehand.

Creativity is something I’ve struggled with, especially in this time of technology and connection. There is a constant access to a stream of other peoples experiences, thoughts and curated visions of their lives. This collective shared pool of resources is immense, inspiring – and intimidating. When I try and find inspiration it often feels like looking into murky water – muddied and unclear and often leaving me more overwhelmed than inspired.

Part of the reason I am creating a few blog posts now is because writing is something I have always wanted to do. As a child, reading The Big Friendly Giant, Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings I dreamed of being an author and being free to create. I was a book worm and I do still love curling up with a book.

For now this is a creative dumping zone of my attempted articulations – a place to put thoughts into words, increase my self-respect by keeping a promise I made to myself and nurture my creativity when in pursuit of a degree that doesn’t naturally stimulate it. Perhaps though – most importantly – it is a way for me to challenge the perfectionism that I feel has held me back in many different aspects of my life – to sports, diet, academic pursuits, relationships (always expectations of myself), body image, gym habits, creativity and more.

Perfectionism and procrastination

Tied in with this and why I’m only just starting to write now, despite a desire to do so from childhood, is my tendency to perfectionism.

I have had this tug at a tether within me – constantly pulling to an obscure direction of – Do, do, do. but I have been at a loss as to what to do because where to start?

Inevitably the first few attempts (or ten or more) will fall short of what I envisioned it to be and so before this point I often don’t start to avoid that disappointment.

I end up in a funny limbo of never fully resting but never committing to a direction either. This disempowered hole is an easy one to fall into but I’m trying to get out.

That’s why I’m writing here. It isn’t about perfection but about showing up and the joy derived from the process of creating and exploring my own thoughts.

Doing something and showing up is far better than doing nothing at all.

If, out of a hundred pieces, I just have one that I’m truly proud of, then I’ll consider that a win. And maybe along the way I will start letting go of the idea that worth comes from perceived perfection and enjoy the journey a lot more.