The “Perfect” Protector—The Mask of Perfectionism
People who struggle with perfectionism often appear successful by our society's standards. It can look like high achievement in school and work, a clean house, a neat appearance, and a pleasing interaction style. Because it looks adaptive on the outside, it can mask the suffering of the person inside. Of course, not everyone who is outwardly successful struggles with perfectionism. The determining factor lies in the internal experience of the person.
I think of perfectionism as a protector (the word I prefer for “defense”) that serves to protect an underlying sense of vulnerability and a fear of losing connection with others. So, for example, if I can meet all of your expectations, you will accept me. If I can be pleasant, likable, and helpful, then you won’t have any reason to be upset with me, and you'll keep me around. Perhaps I have learned that when others are upset, I lose them or that if I can be successful and self-reliant, I will be accepted. The underlying fear is that I may not be ok the way I am. If you see that, you won’t love me or be with me, so I will hide my imperfection and present to you what I think you want.
There are more obviously toxic protectors: raging, substance use, underachievement to name a few. However, despite appearing outwardly successful, there is a high cost to perfectionism. First, the person's internal world is anxious and often harsh. Many of my clients have described their inner critic as constantly berating them. They can't do anything well enough, and there isn't satisfaction or celebration in their accomplishments. They often have a sense of relentless pressure to “get it right" and feel like "everything" depends on performing well. There is frequently an underlying sense of precariousness as if one false move will result in calamity. Clients have described exhaustion from having to make such constant effort.
Another cost of perfectionism is that there is an abandoning of the authentic self. So much effort is oriented toward being what others want and need, so much focus on achievement and an unending list of tasks, that my clients have spoken about not following their dreams, not knowing who they really are, not knowing what brings them joy.
An antidote to perfectionism is a gentle turning toward the inner world. It takes softly discovering the inner parts that feel so concerned about how to be accepted. In my work, my clients and I have often found that these inner parts are young; they decided long ago that this was the best way to fit in. Once these parts begin to feel the support and unconditional acceptance that they need, they can step back and allow change.
The inner critic too needs to be honored. Its efforts, though misguided now, stem from a helpful gesture, a gesture of a small child trying to figure out the world. My clients and I have discovered that as the inner critic begins to trust their adult part, it often steps back. This type of healing is a process. During times of stress, the inner critic can become more active again, working to "help" solve the current problem in a familiar way. But the stronger the nurturing adult self becomes, the more readily and quickly the critic relaxes.
When doing this sort of internal work, it is important to remember that our neurobiology is wired to work best when we are accompanied. Tasks are easier and challenges less daunting when we are together with trusted others. So these sorts of deep explorations are best done with community whether with a therapist, a support group or a trusted friend.
And, of course, be gentle.
