I started my first novel attempt in the fifth grade, and by my 30th birthday, twenty years later, had completed a dozen novels, two screenplays and a short-story collection. The latest manuscript had briefly gotten the attention of an agent, and was also offered a publishing contract; I’d finally arrived.
And every writing day had been difficult; not one day’s work was ever good enough, and the process half killed me.
I’m Will…and I’m a recovering Perfectionist.
It might not be as readily recognized as alcoholism or substance abuse but perfectionism, the obsessive need to do everything without flaw, can absolutely hamstring the creative process—and taken to extremes, can destroy a life from within.
Table of Contents
Three Ways To Recognise The Perfectionist
Is an inability to fail weighing down your creative soul? There are three simple things to consider, that if they ring true might well point to a Big Problem.
1 Unwilling To Try New Things
When an opportunity arises, is your first thought “Will I do it right?”
This is a strong sign of Perfectionism rearing its ugly head. In my younger years I passed on many opportunities—waterskiing, a free martial-arts class, asking out that cute fellow Senior—for fear of failure. Not out of fear that I’d be hurt, even; just fear that I couldn’t do it in the first place.
2 Failure Is Not An Option
It’s one thing when lives are on the line; the oft-repeated quote from the Director of the Apollo 13 mission was appropriate in that situation.
But life is about trying, about experiences; a person unwilling to risk failure won’t try anything…and fails at life itself, no? Those for whom failure is anathema—what do we lose if we try something and fail? Less than not trying in the first place!
3 Somone Please Validate Me
This is, I believe, at the root of the Perfectionist disease. Which I consider myself ‘in recovery’ from, and which dogs my every step.
When our sense of self comes not from within, or from a Higher Power, but from the approval and validation of others, the need to Do Things Perfectly can chain up our very souls.
If any or especially all of these danger signs apply to your journey, you just might be suffering from Perfectionism. And please know, while not as physically debilitating as alcoholism or drug abuse, this disease can nonetheless destroy a person from within.
I said earlier that after twenty years’ effort, I was finally getting it; seeing interest from the publishing world. Yet when that 2008 book failed to attract an agent and failed to land a contract (I was offered one, but only if I made drastic narrative changes I couldn’t stomach) I fell hard. I couldn’t see the success for the failure, and suddenly found that I just didn’t want to write anymore.
Which were the best thing that could have happened to me and my writing.
Because I needed to stop for a while. The need to succeed was poisoning me.
The way God and I dealt with my debilitation required quitting fiction writing for a full decade. I think, though, that there are less drastic methods. If you recognize the danger of Perfectionism in your own self, some lessons handed me along my journey might be of value.
Three Arrows In Our Daily Quiver
If we are indeed Perfectionists and further recognize such as a curse, rather than a blessing, there are countless ways to keep this particular demon at bay; three come to mind as immediately useful and fairly easy to implement.
Admitting the problem. The famous first step of Alcoholics Anonymous is acknowledging, even embracing, the issue itself. To recognize and admit that ‘Yes, this is something I struggle with,’ opens the door to all further opportunities for healing.
1 The Recovering Perfectionist Mantra
There are many sayings that can bolster faith, increase courage, and remind us to be gracious with ourselves. ‘Take things one day at a time,’ has been very valuable to me when I find I’m trying once again to do everything perfectly, and despair at the struggle. ‘I can only do what I can do’ is another; if I remember that nobody on this planet knows everything, gets everything right, I may perhaps be able to give myself more grace when I fail. But far and away the mantra I cling to as a Recovering Perfectionist is ‘It’s okay to fail.’
I still remember sitting across from the counsellor who said this to me, and though the moment was nearly twenty years ago I also remember feeling my world tilt off-center ten degrees when she did.
It had never been okay to fail. I am at the very least a fourth-generation Perfectionist, and that’s as far back as I’ve been able to trace the disease. (In every case given to a firstborn son; one of the potential curses of the position, perhaps.) Through childhood well into my adult life, my unconscious understanding was that Failure was Death. Whether it be learning to drive or writing a poem or my second-grade long-division…it had to be right, right away. Never mind that such an expectation is impossible, that a person has to fail in order to learn how to do anything. Didn’t matter.
So to hear someone wise, someone that I knew I could trust, say it was okay to fail was as strange as if she had said “The capital of Columbia is Wednesday.” It just didn’t compute.
But it is nonetheless completely true.
It’s okay to fail.
I promise.
The decade I was away from fiction offered a lot of chances to learn better who I was, who God made me to be, even if I never wrote another word. And as so often happens in fairy tales, once I was content not to ever write again, God kinda tricked me into, well, writing again. (It’s a long story.) And now that I can write without the anchor of Can’t Fail hanging off the ship, the voyage has been nothing short of magical. Most days. (More on that in a moment.)
2 Try Things!
So we’ve admitted there’s a problem, and practised telling ourselves that it’s okay to fail. How can we come at the problem directly, and practice our new philosophy?
Find something to do! Try a recipe. Write a story. Take a class. The world is chockablock with opportunities to learn, to grow, to laugh, to love.
You’ve come at this essay as a writer? You’re one of the lucky ones! There are so many available writing outlets. Poems, essays, flash fiction, chapbooks, the list is endless. And the necessary supplies nearly universal. Find a pen and a piece of paper and write how you’re currently feeling. Or what the birds singing outside the window sounds like. Or the three things you’re most afraid of at the moment—if they’re yours and they’re honest, any words will do.
And now that we’ve started, however hesitantly, to accept that it’s perfectly fine to take a swing at the ball and miss, there’s never been a better time to turn off the television, pick up those writing materials and venture out into the world that’s waiting for our unique talents.
And on the days when we struggle? When the fear of failing rears up, and we’re more focused on it than on God or Love or whatever good thing we’re putting in its place?
On those days when writing isn’t magical, when I don’t want to put pen to paper or fingers on keys…I give myself permission not to write.
Perfectionism is so insidious, it can loop on itself, and make a person who is venturing out into Life afraid that they’ll fail to stop worrying about failure! The loop can feed on itself until the mind is whirling and the soul frozen.
Which is when we take a deep breath and remember that it’s okay to fail…at letting ourselves fail. Remember that it’s just today, and keeping the world turning is someone else’s responsibility. Remember that we can give ourselves permission not to do that thing.
It’s worth the fight. Just from a writing perspective alone, the two years back on the Novelist’s horse have been easier, more productive, and more joy-filled than the first two decades combined. But even if I never write another word, it would still be worth it.
3 Why We Strive
Because it’s not just about us, this fight against our demons. As I’ve been on the journey to recover from Perfectionism and find something inside worth loving, regardless of what I accomplish, there have been innumerable benefits. And not least for the people around me.
Relationships with friends and family are much improved when I’m not begging loved ones to validate me. I’ve been able to bless others with writing—such as what you’re reading at this moment—that I wouldn’t have attempted if I didn’t allow for the potential of failure. (Which I did, completely, on this essay’s first pass!)
Two relationships more than anything are affected by my daily recovery work.
One is with God; the more I’m willing to love myself, the more understanding I seem to have of how much He loves me, which of course increases the level with which I can love others.
And then there’s my firstborn son.
Isaac is five, currently, and the potential for the Perfectionist Curse in his life has already shown its ugly head. He hates when he doesn’t get things right the first time, even when the intended goal is completely arbitrary. If an attempted Lego sculpture collapses, if he forgets the words to a song he’s trying to sing…he can be quick to jump down his own throat at the failure. A reaction I am all too familiar with.
I thank God for eighteen years of working on recovery from my disease; I can’t help whatever physiological data is apparently hardwired into Isaac’s system but I can offer a daily example of a man willing to try and fail. A father who doesn’t expect to do everything perfectly or require the same of him.
My hope is that as he sees that he is loved whether or not he produces anything perfect, that he might never succumb to the curse at all.
And maybe in passing, I’ll have more patience and grace with myself.
It’s okay to fail.
I promise.
Author William Nuessle
‘Will Nuessle holds a third-degree brown belt in ninjitsu (having failed to earn black!), rides a Harley, primary caregiver of a five- and two-year-old (with boy three arriving any day now) and claims he can recite the alphabet backwards in less than ten seconds. In addition to self-published Amazonian novels, Will’s work may be found in Boundless Journal, the Lothlorien Poetry Journal, and the soon-to-be-released premiere issue of Portmanteau Magazine. He also writes a rambling blog entry every week or so at The Story So Far – write to live (wordpress.com)’