Perfectionist Rehab

The narrative is often the same – why write unless it’s good enough?

“No one cares what you have to say, Michelle.”

“Stop trying so hard. You’re not even a real writer.”

I wonder how many of us fall victim to these thoughts. How many painters refuse to paint? How many singers remain silent? How many potters smush entire projects another person would value and admire?

Perhaps it’s part of being human.

Perhaps it’s the forced self-deprivation we don to become likeable.

Who hasn’t quieted their voice because of criticism from our peers? Those people who try to knock us down a peg or two – else we think too highly of ourselves.

Self-censorship acrylic on paper by Michelle Gosselin

I don’t think my life should be limited to paying bills, losing weight, servitude, or even juggling responsibilities.

I am more than a bank account.

I am more than a pant size.

My value is not dictated by my service to others.

I think we’ve all experienced ‘candle-blowers’. This theory was popularized by Brene Brown, a researcher, professor, author, and motivational speaker. She emphasizes throughout her works the importance of self-actualization despite the inevitable imperfections we will all accumulate.

Brown discusses the importance of identifying ‘candle-blower-outers’ – the naysayers in our inner circle, colleagues, friends, and family – who metaphorically extinguish our light through critiques.

I think this is extremely relatable – being fired up and inspired by a hobby, interest, or project – only to be shot down by some cutting comment. Criticism can immediately deflate you and discourage you from continuing.

Why?

Because humans look for connection. We desire validation from our communities to derive meaning, perspective, and worth. The encouragement we receive from our circle often dictates our actions.

I, for example, polled a few of my friends before I embarked on this blog. Validation is something I certainly crave, and I’m not sure I want to be without it.

Relationships define so much, including how we see ourselves. Some people minimize us because of our own fears or lack mindset.

“If that person succeeds and achieves their dream, I won’t be able to achieve mine.”

When I was in college, I owned this bright red velvet moto-jacket with a quatrefoil design. It had silver hardware on the lapels and a zipper that was bright and flashy. I loved this jacket.

One day, I wore this jacket to class and a friend of mine made fun of it ruthlessly.

“That thing is ridiculous! I can’t believe you’d wear that out of the house. Who do you think you are, Michael Jackson?!”

I was on the verge of tears, and thoroughly ashamed. I donated the jacket later that week because I couldn’t bring myself to wear it again. I realized later my mistake – there was nothing wrong with me owning something that gave me joy. The only issue with the jacket was that it was unique.

My “friend” hated that I stood out.

I once had a different “friend” tell me that my personality is already the loudest in the room – I really didn’t have to dress so garishly.

I’m a sensitive person, who often takes criticism to heart. So, naturally, there was a five-year stretch after that comment where I exclusively wore neutrals. I didn’t want to draw attention to my audacious, outrageous, exuberant self.

I was too loud to begin with.

Anyone who sings in a serious way will tell you that it’s a skill that requires practice. To achieve beautiful sounds, you have to be willing to sound awful until you learn vocal placement techniques.

I used to sing every day – however, I will never forget the criticisms I received from my foster mother whenever I was dissonant. Years later, my foster mother asked me why I never tried out for American Idol.

I reminded her that she told me I would never make it if I tried. So, I didn’t try.

There’s an obvious theme here – when I perceive criticism, I give up.

I ask no further questions.

“My community must have my best interests at heart, right? They’re keeping me honest, managing my expectations, keeping me humble.”

But what if humility has nothing to do with silencing achievements? Why must we silently celebrate and clap for ourselves in the privacy of isolation to protect our communities from our ‘boasting’?

Is it boastful to be jazzed about creating something, or is it excitement? Is it ‘ego-centric’ to be proud of hard work well done?

What’s the difference between confidence and narcissism?

That’s right – our community’s perception.

This is what I’m struggling with – how do we measure our effectiveness – goodness, worth, effectiveness – absent of our communities?

We look to our community for validation because it cultivates a sense of belonging, without which perpetuates fear. Our survival instincts are hardwired into believing that isolation is dangerous and fatal – if we aren’t accepted by our communities, we’re sure to perish.

Music, writing, and painting are some of the countless contributions people make to define the human experience. Art helps us process and release emotions we suppress in the name of civility.

We water ourselves down in hopes that we will be accepted – and by extension – in hopes that we will be loved.

It is with no small amount of vulnerability that I began writing again.

I’ve spent my life consuming the works from ‘real’ authors. They have something to say! They are worthy of sharing their voices. They are more practiced than I, more intelligent, more skilled, more valuable.

What do I have?

My own perspective. My own voice. A love for the written word. Possibly the most daring of all – a desire to dive into the sea of countless tales with my own pen.

My silence has not been the absence of talent, or the lack of ability, or devoid of motivation. It was my own method of playing small – refusing to stand out from the crowd and draw attention to my already larger-than-life self.

A lesson I’m trying to learn is that humility is not self-hatred.

Humility is sharing ideas others may not have considered. Humility is taking the time to explain, concepts that have become second nature, to another person who could use the information you’ve gained.

Humility is putting the community before the self and respecting oneself enough to not be an ass about it.

It’s only through practicing our craft that we improve. It is only through producing our craft that we derive purpose.

It is only through purpose that we are inspired to create, and it is through creation that we find fulfillment.

So here is my effort to overcome that small-minded voice in my head that has silenced me for most of my adult life – my writing need not be perfect to be helpful. My experiences need not be beautiful to be shared. Life is a practice, and every day that I get to participate is a blessing.