Perfecting the Art of Imperfection

            Whenever an interviewer asks me “What’s your greatest weakness?” I always debate whether or not I should respond honestly and say, “Well, I’m kind of a perfectionist.”

            The pros of this answer: it means I’m detail-oriented, I take responsibility in my work, and I always strive to do the very best job. The cons: I’m increasingly afraid of failure, I struggle to take criticism, and (this one’s obvious) I’m obsessed with being nothing less than perfect. 

            I asked my boss, and it turns out this is actually a pretty bad interview answer (never say perfectionism, guys). Managers don’t want employees who are inefficient because they agonize over getting every detail right… shocking. 

            Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to be great, or nothing at all. I don’t know who else but myself put this all-encompassing pressure on me. It wasn’t my parents, since they have always encouraged me through both my successes and failures. It certainly wasn’t my peers, because I often got picked on and called a “try-hard.” Maybe it was my brother–he’s so successful and almost too much of a good role model. Anyways, my perfectionism has shaped me into someone with a strong drive to succeed, yes, but also someone who struggles with defensiveness, taking criticism, and occasionally thinks the world revolves around them (I know this one isn’t true… right)? Just think of that viral TikTok sound… (“A fun fact about me is that I have never been relaxed, ever”). 

             Because of this, I actively force myself to try out new things that I might not be good at, value feedback, learn from criticism, and celebrate my failures, both because they help me grow and help me overcome my irrational fear of not being perfect.  But it wasn’t always that way.

            When I was about 8 years old, I entered a music competition for young piano players. There were about ten other kids there, all clutching their sheet music. When it was my turn, I played my song, thought it went well, and anticipated my results. The results were: I didn’t place. 

            I immediately wanted to quit piano and never touch the keys ever again. My mom had to talk me off of my ledge, and thankfully I stuck with it and still play the classics every now and then. That’s not to say I stopped getting frustrated when I didn’t achieve perfection–I’ve banged my hands against the piano enough times to give it a good beating–I’m just better equipped to learn from my mistakes instead of letting them consume me.

            However, this doesn’t mean that I’m great at accepting criticism. I have kind of a subconscious, elitist mindset when it comes to the topic. For example, I always welcome any comments from people in leadership roles (like my boss, professor, or coach), and have a hard time accepting suggestions from people I’m close to, like my peers, teammates, and my mom (sorry, mom!) without getting defensive. It’s harder for me not to take their feedback to heart–I lose the validation I sought to gain in the first place, and tend to reject these comments to protect my ego. 

In the process of writing my last blog piece, I let my mom read my first draft so she could negate my fears of the content being flat, disjointed, or boring. Rather than hearing exactly what I wanted to (“My daughter needs to start writing for the New York Times, ASAP!”), she gave me some crucial suggestions about the flow of the piece. Instead of implementing these valuable comments, I chose to turn my selective hearing on. I didn’t listen to how I could make my writing better, I just heard my fears come true; shockingly, everything I wrote was not, in fact, perfect the first time around. 

            When my selective hearing ceased, it clicked—of course I had things to improve on… which first draft doesn’t? I went back to the drawing board and, lucky for you, the blog vastly improved because of it!

            On the other hand, when I receive positive feedback from someone I value, it’s easy to feel what I coined my ‘perfectionism paralysis,’ in which I agonize over small details because nothing seems to be good enough. Last year, before handing in my final essay, my professor simply said he was excited to read my paper and to keep up the good work. The pressure I put on myself after hearing that simple sentiment made me nearly incapable of writing anything in fear that it wouldn’t live up to his expectations, or that it wouldn’t be perfect. It was truly paralyzing.

            When I finally completed the essay, I stupidly told my professor to not get his hopes up in an attempt to shield myself from what I felt was inevitable disappointment. The look on his face made it clear: if I can’t muster the confidence to believe in my own work, why should anyone else, especially someone whose job is to evaluate my work?

            To make matters worse, after handing in my final exam for that class days later (a collection of grueling, handwritten essays), I was so unsure of what I wrote that I almost apologized to the professor for writing so poorly! Thank goodness I didn’t listen to this instinct and learned from my mistake the first time–I ended up doing much better than I thought I would. 

            I’m slowly working on my perfectionist tendencies: being kinder to myself, believing in my work, and accepting that criticism is a tool for growth, not a threat. So, while I’d probably not go so far to label perfectionism as my greatest weakness in my next job interview, I’m thankful for what this trait has taught me. As I attempt to balance my high standards with more self-compassion, I’m learning that true success lies not in achieving perfection, but in embracing the journey of continuous growth along the way.

Beyond the Blog

A place to find hyper-specific media recommendations focused on highlighting our favourite female-centric books and music.

Books

I love memoirs because they always contrast your perception of someone with who they truly are. Here are four (seemingly) flawless celebrity blondes who aren’t afraid to show their imperfections and take ownership of their mistakes:

The Woman in Me by Britney Spears 

• It’s 2024, and yet, Britney Spears has had to fight tooth and nail for her freedom. An inspiring story of the enduring power of music and love.

Paris: The Memoir by Paris Hilton

• Shocking–in a good way. Paris is so much more than a fashion icon; she’s a survivor, a DJ, a mother, and a friend.

Love, Pamela by Pamela Anderson

• “An enigma in a red-bathing suit.” Pamela doesn’t join the celebrity gossip train—instead, she speaks vulnerably and honestly about everything from her difficult childhood to her take on existential philosophy.

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

• Arguably the best celebrity memoir, Jennette McCurdy’s heartbreaking and hilarious telling of her coming-of-age, the film industry, and her overbearing mother is definitely worth reading.

Music and Media

When I’m paralyzed with perfectionism, I need a song that will give me the confidence to stop worrying and start doing. I always gravitate toward high energy songs, especially synth-pop party hits, which are always on repeat anytime I need to hype myself up. Below, I’ve listed my favorite songs that give me so much energy, they could wake me from a coma:

Von Dutch by Charlie XCX

• It’s a Brat summer, and I’m here for it. Nothing has made me want to dance more, possibly ever.

Work by Iggy Azalea

• Unironically, I love this song– though its inspiration is a little surface-level, it’s still motivating in all the right ways.

Bad Girls by M.I.A

• This song single-handedly stopped me from failing my exams. The alarm beat always got me out of bed and into the library.

Perfect (Exceeder) by Mason & Princess Superstar

• Saltburn summer, anyone…? Surprisingly, Perfection does not send me into a perfectionist frenzy… It just makes me walk with my head a little higher.

Listen to these songs and more on WIB’s new spotify account, and access the full playlist here.