Is it not good enough or is it not perfect?
Do you know the difference?
Well it’s been a while since I last posted anything. The thing is, I’ve not stopped writing, in fact, I’ve probably been writing more than ever; I’ve been writing and rewriting, editing and cutting, swapping and changing topics, yet every single piece I’ve written just doesn’t feel “good enough” to put out into the world. So instead, I thought I’d write about on the subject of “good enough”.
I get so excited when I get an idea for a topic to discuss, I’ll write a solid 95% of a post, on an absolute roll, then I’ll go back to the beginning and read it through again. “There’s definitely a better word for that… is the grammar there right? Does that need a capital or not? Is that term politically correct? Could I accidentally offend someone and ruin my entire future? Will my mother disown me for saying that?” And thus, that last 5% of the post is abandoned but I’ll return to it every 3–5 days or so, and tear my hair out over it all over again. So that’s pretty much how the last month has looked for me.
I wanted this to be authentic and real, and realistically, I know the standard of “good enough” is pretty ridiculous for something like a blog. If a philosophy degree taught me anything it’s that everything is subjective so you’re never going to please everyone and nothing you do, think or say is original or innovative so you may as well go for it. Yet something about this being my voice entirely is exposing, and so every word has to be the right one. It’s a personal platform, I’m not being rejected by newspapers, I’m most likely not going to hear or read many critiques of my writing, and if anything, I think I’m pretty good at accepting criticism; I like to use it as a goal to work towards. I feel an absurd sense of arrogance even thinking people will take time out of their day to care to read what I write, let alone judge it, yet here I am agonising over every word, rejecting my own work because it’s not good enough.
Claude Monet once said “My life has been nothing but a failure”. A notorious perfectionist, in 1908 he famously destroyed 15 paintings with a knife and paintbrush. 15 almost certain masterpieces which were due to be exhibited in Paris but they simply weren’t fit for display according to Monet, thus the exhibition was postponed. Some may admire his defiant strive for absolute perfection, but others will mourn the loss of those probably perfect paintings.
I think this is a great example of the divisiveness of perfectionism. Some believe the push for perfectionism will motivate oneself to work harder, do more, accept nothing less than the best; while that may be the case for some individuals, studies suggest that perfectionists are successful in spite of it, rather than because of it. Perfectionism leads to self rejection and lower self-esteem. The unattainable standards set due to the expectation we believe others are placing upon us, or the fear of failure, or a need to be the best for validation, whatever it is, leads to us feeling we’re falling short, giving in to that little voice saying “it’s not good enough”, privately giving in rather than exposing the world to anything less than the best. Perfectionists suffer higher levels of anxiety, suffer burnout faster, and are actually less likely to take risks for fear of failure and lack of control. Perfectionism hinders far more than it helps. It’s a dichotomy; we want to do everything but will do nothing for fear of it not being perfect.
What can be reared in a healthy way from a desire to be perfect is a strive to be better. The energy that burns us out telling ourselves something is not good enough can be harnessed towards not being perfect, but being improved. That little voice telling you that something isn’t good enough is probably a sign that you’ve given something time and effort and you care. You’ll make far more progress by trying to be better than perfect. Better is ongoing, whereas perfect is an end.
If we can accept whatever our focus is, work, writing, working out, personality traits will never be perfect but it can be better, then we can utilise the energy given to unnecessary pressure towards seeking genuine improvements. That’s not to say pressure is a negative thing, a little bit of pressure is healthy and the reason (*cough* excuse) I always used for leaving my essays until the night before the due date was “diamonds are made under pressure” but another term I love is “bread dough rises when it is left to rest”; there absolutely is a balance between the two. Better is a journey rather than a destination, but you’re always on the move.
Better may sound like a synonym for perfection; you never get there, it’s unobtainable, there’s no end. But better is a small step, an incremental improvement, rather than a massive unachievable goal. If you worked out for 20 minutes instead of 18 minutes, that’s better. If you brushed your teeth today when you couldn’t get out of bed yesterday, that’s better, and your best can look different every day but what’s important is the small, achievable but tangible progress. You never get to feel the achievement of perfection, because you’ll never get there. Better is far more personal than perfection. It’s a more conscious effort to be a little bit better than yesterday, and little achievements should absolutely be celebrated.
“Better to do something imperfectly than to do nothing flawlessly” — Robert H. Schuler
To be imperfect is to be vulnerable. The fear of not being good enough means you probably have enough care for something to make sure it is absolutely good enough. Make good enough good enough. Your favourite album probably has one at least one song you don’t like as much. Your favourite series probably has an episode you find boring. Your favourite book probably has a poorly written chapter, but you love them anyway. We can’t be perfect, but we can always be better.
Take care of yourself, properly
Sophie xox
