Presence Over Perfection {rambling reflections}

These past twelve months I've been learning a lesson (and learning and learning and learning): It's called 'Meaghan didn't really think she was a perfectionist but actually she really is'. For a long time I put the idea of perfectionism in a box. It was something that could freeze a person or make getting 'small' tasks done impossible or getting the urge to redo someone else's work because it wasn't up to snuff. I *knew* of people who were frozen by this kind-of perfectionism, and no way was it me. I did things: I learned cello, guitar, piano, sketching, gardening mostly by just doing it. Sure, sometimes I'd be disappointed with the results, but I'd keep trying and trying. No, it wasn't the small things that made me stumble over this perfectionism.

My perfectionism shows up most in the standards I set for myself and the difficulty I have giving myself grace when I fall flat on my face. Perfectionism is a form of anxiety. It's a voice inside of your head condemning you quicker than a speeding bullet, and it lies. A LOT. That voice tells you your mess-up was of EPIC proportions when it was only a stumble or just a 'you have a lot of willpower, but your body is TIIIIRRREEED'. There's not a whole lot of ground being human and being perfect share in common (How 'bout none?), but sometimes we listen to perfectionism and that fear more intensely than we do the Holy Spirit. Oopsy. Here we are condemning ourselves over our lack of perfection while Jesus is up in Heaven interceding on our behalf when Satan condemns us. And condemnation separates which really doesn't help us (*will now put herself back on track*).

The past year has been a fight for me. There's been a lot going on internally. A lot of wrestling with myself. Wrestling between how I feel and what I know and then my flawed thinking patterns. My emotions have been all over the place, and when you feel like an extremely messy person (who is well aware that some of her thoughts are illogical but for the life of her can't get the emotions part to just STOP), you don't really feel like showing up in other people's lives. It's a pride thing. It's a fear thing. It's a 'I've overthought this X10, and now I will be the martyr and save other people from having to put up with me because if I can't deal with myself, how can I expect other people?' thing. It's kind-of stupid because 'oh no! People will now know I'm imperfect', but the whole dismissing feelings doesn't work great.

Because of some not-so-fun experiences in the friendship/people department growing up, my perfectionism appears here a lot. There's this thought that because some friendship didn't work out, it was directly correlated with something I did. I said the wrong thing here. I overshared. Maybe I tried too hard. Maybe I wasn't open enough. Maybe...maybe...That tunnel of thought is long and dark and filled with many under-stretched or over-stretched thoughts. Essentially I created the theory that if I made a mistake or did something stupid once, it could ruin a relationship. There was no room for grace, for the trust that people would give me open communication, for me if I was in a funky mood or was complaining too much or felt too unsure. No safe place. So...Meaghan is now shut for business.

But everyone is under construction, and we go through periods where the very walls of our heart are torn down for renovation, and it feels pretty naked in this place. I don't like it because I don't like sometimes how I feel about myself or how I feel about the whiplash of emotions or fall-out of logic so why would anyone else?  Why would I show this side of myself -- the side that can't even fake perfectionism -- to anyone else? Why would I lean-- how could I lean on their compassion? According to my relationship theory, it's suicide, and yet, I can't walk this path alone. So what are you supposed to do?

I get out of my circular circus of crazy thoughts, and I remember something: those who love you don't need your performances or your pretend perfection. Your presence is most important. Your so-called 'perfection' isn't what they see, anyway. You are you are you even if you are more Eeyore or Piglet than Pooh today, and sometimes you need that presence to remind you who you are when the whiplash of emotions leave you feeling lost or numb. There is laughter and fellowship and bright moments even when under construction, and presence without perfection creates the strongest connection.