“I’m not a perfectionist.” “I’m easy-going.” “It’s good enough!”
I’ve said these things SO MANY times! And yet, I think when I say them I am speaking to a part of myself that is so incredibly unsatisfied with the work I produce, no matter how good it is.
As a writer, I have had to confront the reality that I actually AM a perfectionist. I just kind of wish I wasn’t because it drives another part of me insane!
Even this very blog, which has been in draft form for over a week, I am obsessing over at this very moment! I’ve realized I plan, draft, re-write, and then get discouraged, because no matter how much I edit and re-write, it will never be the perfect, flawless, heartwarming yet thought-provoking piece I wish it to be!
Sure, I can tell if it is good. But if I’m honest I’m a little dissatisfied and underwhelmed with “good.”
Hey, I’d settle for AMAZING. I’m not greedy đ . But the reality of time, of needing to meet deadlines, and of using my energy wisely and efficiently inevitably all press down on me. My would-be AMAZING piece of writing has to settle for a “good” or even a “very good” in my eyes, most of the time.
The sad reality for this idealist is that I don’t have all the time and energy in the world to pour into my writing like I would like to.
The best I can hope for is that I become a better writer along the way, with each work I produce.
When I have voiced said frustrations, my (wise!) husband helps put things in perspective.
“With art, you’re not creating something perfect, per-say. There are certain aesthetics,” he explains. “And a work of art is considered good when it meets those.”
“But different people use different aesthetics,” I argue (I must always provide a counterargument to make sure we are getting at the reality of the situation- he’s an idealist, too).
“True, but there are some that are more universally accepted,” he continues. “Like a work of art is supposed to be the best version/ expression of what it is.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” I wonder, eyeing him warily. He’s making a point, but I’m not sure yet whether it is helpful to cure my condition.
“You keep trying to make the art the best expression of what it is,” he reassures me, “and at some point it is considered good” (I am paraphrasing and putting his speech in layman’s terms. He is much more eloquent than this).
So, that is where I must rest. How would I ever possibly know when my work has reached “perfection?” The truth is that’s not the right framing for working on something; it’s too simplistic.
As a Christian, I can take the route of saying we are sinful, fallen people in a fallen world and that’s why we can’t reach perfection, but I think that muddies the waters of the conversation about art because my husband is right: there are accepted standards in art, but it is not about it being a certain, perfect way. It is about it becoming what it was meant to be (if you know what I mean!).
As a Christian I can also think about the original Creator, God, and how he creates. He does not make things all uniform or too particular in their aesthetic (or perhaps He merely has a much higher aesthetic than we do, which we are blinded to!). Yet he created and said things were “good.” So perhaps this really is the point in creating. To produce some sort of goodness.
What is perfection, anyways? I think it’s probably just an idea I picked up of the unattainable, a something I dream I could create that everyone (including myself!) would think was wonderful and no one could find any fault with.
In lieu of perfection, therefore, I will continue to write for the sheer joy of creation and learning. I will write to communicate ideas, images, and feelings. I will write to share my inner world with others, to educate, and to inspire. I will write to produce goodness in the world.
What about you? Anyone out there struggling with perfectionist tendencies? What wisdom has helped you along the way?



