If you want to completely stifle your creative growth, just dowse it with some good old perfectionism.

It’s true.

Perfectionism stops us dead in our tracks and turns what could be a decent baby step (or small beginning) into absolutely, well…

Zilch.

In short, perfectionism leaves you with a whole lot of nothing.

The trick, which I’m warning you is much easier said than done, is to figure out how to drop this nasty little friend.

First, let’s start by shedding some light on it.

On the surface, perfectionism appears to be another form of gross arrogance, but if you peel back a few layers you will find it is deep rooted insecurity.

Yup, that’s right. Insecurity.

Perfectionism is our way of presenting a squeaky clean version of ourselves to others around us that, let’s face it, never has and never will exist.

We put our best foot forward or we don’t move at all, while at the same time apologizing for all the ‘stuff’ we think others might think is ‘wrong’. The trouble is, precious few people actually care.

GASP!

I know this might sound crazy, but let me tell you a little secret – most people are way too involved in their own little worlds.

Say it ain’t so!

It is… and I’m sorry.

In fact, you really shouldn’t be too worried about what other people think because people generally care more about themselves than they do about you anyway. Besides, it’s an utterly constrictive way to live.

When you live your life worried about every one else’s opinion, you are simply issuing yourself a prison sentence. For LIFE.

Go directly to jail; do not pass GO; do not collect $200.

Mr. Monopoly

Perfectionism is prison.

To illustrate, I kept my house nearly spotless for over a decade – now this is relatively easy to do if you don’t have kids – but I do. Three, to be exact, plus a husband who is a borderline hoarder.

Neat Freak, anyone?

Calling me a neat freak might be an understatement, I used to clean obsessively. If you were to show up at my door, you would probably notice how incredibly clean the house was. Toys, in the living room? NEVER. Dishes, in the sink? Uh, no… Dirty clothes in the laundry room? Absolutely not!

Nevertheless, I would immediately start shoveling my standard ‘sorry, the house isn’t clean’ disclosure statement down your throat.

I get it, you don’t want to hear how perfect I aspire to be, but you don’t understand, you’re in my house.

Truthfully, deep down, I am embarrassed that I am not perfect.

I try SO hard.

But alas, I am flawed – yet, I so desperately want everyone to think that I am not. How sad is that?

Later, much later…

after countless hours of unnecessary cleaning, some serious hypnosis, tons of counseling and reading lots and lots of FLYlady articles, I realized that it is ok to LIVE in a house.

BUT… there is always a but… if I’m going to be honest – real change, for me, only came after I did some serious soul searching (which, by the way, I don’t really recommend because it’s a lot of taking personal responsibility for all the ‘stuff’ in your life that is ‘wrong’… and who in the world is stupid enough to do that? Well… me. That’s who).

I discovered that what I was really communicating, in essence, was “My real standards are impossible but just me trying to reach them makes you look bad, and somehow that makes me feel like I’m better than you.”

Somehow, inside, I really don’t feel good about myself. Period. Therefore, it is really, really important to make sure that I elevate myself above everyone else.

Now, that’s insecurity

It’s a crappy way to be, I get it.

That’s why I changed.

No wait… that’s not why I changed.

Seriously, what happened is that two of my children grew up into…

Teenagers!?!

That ship is crazy.

Teenagers are like God’s way of letting you know that if you dared to think that you had even the slightest inkling about how to parent, you were dead wrong.

What the Fudge cakes? Who in the world invented teenagers?

God and I have had some pretty grave conversations about this very topic.

I have asked God multiple times – What were you thinking? Where are my sweet, loving babies? Who the heck died and made you…

(Oh wait. My bad.)

First of all, teenagers are messy as all get out. Seriously, they walk in the door, grunt at you (if you’re lucky), and then as they saunter past to lock themselves into the confines of their room, you might notice bits of trash, food and clothing flying off their bodies! Like missiles or bullets or tiny knives. They are hell bent on… just… destruction.

Where does it all come from?

I honestly can’t say. It’s almost like they are living crossed up in two separate dimensions. Thus their very existence has caused a portal or black hole to open up and suck the trash out of one dimension and discard it into another.

The ‘another’ dimension I mentioned happens to be the one I live in.

It’s like for the last several years, I have spent every waking hour just picking up debris. All in the vain hope of striving for perfection.

Utterly exhausted, like a banshee hailing her very own death, I screamed “Screw this job, I quit!”

But then my husband was like “You can’t quit, I’ll sue you for child support.”

And I was like “Buddy!… let me tell you what I’ll do… ”

but that was all I could come up with.

Whatever am I going to do?

Well, I’ll tell you what I did.

I had to face it.

I sat down with Perfectionism… and boy was I going to give him an earful.

As it turns out, he is not that bad of a guy.

“Look, I know you think I’m a piece of crap,” He started. “Like a horrible on-again-off-again kind of boyfriend… “

“Yeah, I do.” I interrupted, to which he kind of just glared at me like a horrible on-again-off-again kind of boyfriend.

He continued, “but really I’m just here to make you realize that you need to dig deep and find a way to fall in love with yourself.”

His words hit me.

I mean they slapped me right in the face.

He was right, though…

And you know what? maybe there is a place for all the horrible on-again-off-again types…

Perhaps they are here to show us how important it is for us to fall in love with ourselves.

Maybe even gently nudge us towards being the best expression of ourselves that we can. Not perfect mind you – just way closer to authentic.

In conclusion, carrying around the heavy burden of perfectionism just illustrates our inability to accept and love ourselves. As. We. Are. As a result, without our own personal commitment to self love, it is impossible to be authentic and likewise, impossible to create.

If we can’t be authentic, then we are just living life in the ultimate tragedy. Because before you decided to leap into the world of form, you looked through the vast ocean of consciousness and out of the billions and trillions of souls to pick from, you chose you.

I personally think it’s high time to start being the best you possible. Best expressions are so much better than shooting for perfect. It means we can be who we are, as we are, when we are, while still allowing ourselves to have bad days, messy houses, and imperfect relationships without having to feel like throwing in the towel.

So drop perfectionism and give yourself the gift of a lifetime – YOU!

I’m telling you, it’s worth it.