Perfectionist Rehab

Consistency is the routine in the application of something.

Repetition. Ritual. Habit.

Fitness enthusiasts emphasize the importance of consistency to achieve exercise goals. It’s not necessarily about completing a workout perfectly. Some days you lift a little lighter, run a little slower, or perform three sets instead of four. It’s the showing up on repeat that changes you.

Consistency is essential in relationship building. This is true in personal relationships, but also in professional settings. Establishing routine connections, reliable information, and sustainable effort builds trust. Saying the same things regardless of the audience. Punctuality. Honesty. Transparency.

Consistency demonstrates character far more than words ever do. Our routines, habits, and rituals show our values. They establish what we feel is important. In many ways, we are our routines. We become whatever we dedicate ourselves to.

Habits dictate how we feel about ourselves, and how other people perceive us.

It’s believed that it takes thirty days for an action to become a habit, sixty days to make progress, and ninety days to see results. If we want our lives to change, we first have to decide to alter something in our routines. The alteration has to be consistently and intentionally applied over a period of time before it becomes automatic.

If you want something you’ve never had, you must do what you’ve never done.

I try to be an intentional person. Punctual. Trustworthy. Consistent. When I make commitments, either personally or professionally, I exhaust every effort to honor them.

Sometimes even at the expense of my own health.

I’m ridiculously pigheaded about consistency when it comes to my sons. Their nighttime ritual is a non-negotiable in my house, no matter how sick or tired I am. Sometimes I feel like I’m holding myself to an unreasonable standard. In my defense, my boys are quick to settle into the night because our ritual is stable. They know that once our routine starts, it’s time to get cozy. That level of predictability translates to safety. Safety makes people relax.

My work assignments changed about a year ago. My portfolio expanded to include a work product that I supported years ago in a different capacity. My work environment was different back then. My boss was a tyrant, for starters. She would script the words we were to say, but there was a strict “don’t tell anyone I told you to say this or else you’ll get written up” expectation as well.

I was miserable.

No one performs well under stress. I’m forthright to begin with, but when I’m under extreme pressure, I become borderline tactless.

Unsurprisingly, my colleagues and I were at odds. Part of this situation was outside of my control since I was not the person making decisions.

I made the situation worse however, because I pushed away any possible chance for connection.

When I learned that I was taking on this product again, I knew I had to do things differently this time. I needed to be transparent whenever I could be. Consistent. Punctual. Honest. I vowed to find ways to make people’s jobs less stressful. I wanted to find the answers to questions other people brushed aside. I wanted to resolve long-standing pain points. I wanted to disambiguate processes and standardize inspection practices.

But first, the team had to trust me.

This was a slow process, and I’m still learning. This week has been eye-opening, however.

I’ve been able to inspire true change.

“It’s good to pause every once in a while and notice the way things once were.”

Operators bring their concerns to me. Supervisors confess their irritations. Managers have let down their guard enough to discuss the issues they’re facing. I’m included in discussions in rooms that I never would have believed a year ago.

I’m scared. Anxious. Intimidated. Worried.

I’ve demonstrated through consistency that I make data-driven recommendations. I have a solid track record of providing meaningful insights.

People listen to me when I speak now.

Two years ago, a senior manager brushed me off in a meeting.

“I don’t care what you have to say.”

Suddenly, people are asking for my thoughts. My recommendations. My interpretations.

And they take it into consideration.

I’m fully aware that this all seems self-indulgent and irritating. Why on Earth would anyone be anxious or upset because people are listening to them?

I feel exposed. Vulnerable. In danger.

A year ago, I was nameless. I blended into my surroundings. Now?

I’m sought out.

I’m sure I’m worrying over nothing. It’s just that my early life taught me that perceptibility was dangerous. Risky.

My boss’s boss is traveling to our center next week, and in the six years that I’ve been with this company, I’ve never met him before. He wants to chat with each of us individually.

I have a one-on-one meeting scheduled with him. I don’t even know what he looks like. I know a lot of changes are coming. I know that my name is being uttered in rooms I’ve never been in. I know that a lot of things have already changed.

I chronically catastrophize. The small voice in my head is totally convinced things are going awry.

He’s coming to fire you.

It’s truly exhausting. On one hand, I hold myself to ridiculous standards that no one else expects. I panic when I do things well.

What if I missed something?

What if people take my word for gospel, everything goes horribly wrong, and it all comes back to bite me in the ass?

What if I’m wrong, and I lose everything I’ve built?