Letter to the Next Generation: On perfectionism

I’ve recently noticed how photos in people’s feeds look quite, well…imperfect. Blurry images, out-of-focus shots, harsh flash and photos that have that real 35mm film analogue look that appears to be trending. The desire from a younger demographic for this retro, nostalgic, imperfect style of imagery and expression points to a deeper yearning for authenticity and tangible human connection in a digital and abstract world. This photo style breaks the conventional rules of photography when it comes to technical mastery, but delivers when it comes to capturing the in-the-moment, real-life look and emotion. I have to say I’ve been inspired by the younger generation’s desire for authenticity over perfection. 

I am a recovering perfectionist

I’m not sure when or how I began to believe that things needed to be perfect or that I needed to be perfect in order to be OK. But somewhere along the line of my life, I absorbed this idea that if I did not achieve or perform, love and validation would be withdrawn from me. My upbringing had a part to play in cultivating my perfectionistic thinking; growing up, we believed that security and success would protect us from danger and destitution. I worked hard to avoid failure, to not make mistakes and to never let anyone down.

I have discovered over time that, in its healthier forms, perfectionism can enable a person to develop a self-motivated ability to overcome and aspire towards excellence. But in its unhealthier forms, perfectionism can lead to an over desire for success, avoidance of failure, fear of judgment and inclination towards negativity. Becoming aware of why I believed being good wasn’t enough was the first step to figuring out how to deal with the constant hypervigilance to threat, over-sensitivity to criticism and inability to rest. 

Research shows that women are far more likely to struggle with perfectionism than men. In the workplace, the drive for perfection can look like being the one who is able to anticipate every possible problematic eventuality, not allowing ourselves to be perceived as ‘weak’ under any circumstances, continually seeking validation from others, internalising harsh criticism, struggling to delegate and having unrealistically high expectations of ourselves and others. 

It’s taken me a long time to really believe that it’s OK to make mistakes. That everyone inevitably makes mistakes and it is in fact a part of being human. I remember many years ago, as a young lawyer, admitting to my boss that I had made a mistake at work. While I braced myself for what I thought would be an onslaught of criticism and condemnation, she simply asked me: “Well, did you learn something?” As I responded in the affirmative, she calmly and compassionately replied: “Well, as long as you learned something through it and you don’t forget the lesson, it’s OK.” And that was it. 

Both strength and weakness are needed

It says in 2 Corinthians 12:9-10: “‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong”. 

The Christian life reminds us that strength and weakness go together hand in hand. An experience of weakness often leads to an experience of strength, and seasons of strength can then be followed with corresponding, if not contemporaneous, seasons of weakness, presenting us with beautiful cosine curves in life. God’s power is not stopped by our weakness. Our weaknesses, flaws and imperfections keep us open, humble and dependent on God. Paul had a thorn in his flesh, which we don’t know the specifics of, but it kept him from becoming conceited and excessively proud. Without his human weakness, Paul wouldn’t have experienced and witnessed God’s power at work in the way he did. So Paul was not only OK with admitting his weaknesses, he was OK with talking openly, loudly and proudly about it. He knew he was loved by God not because he was perfect but because God is perfect. God’s power is not contingent on our perfect performance; instead, it is somehow mysteriously and beautifully displayed in the midst of weakness.

As Easter approaches, we are reminded that Jesus chose a posture of weakness in going to the cross. What was viewed as the ultimate act and sign of weakness – the Son of God allowing Himself to be brutally and shamefully crucified on a cross publicly – was ultimately used by God to accomplish His plans and purposes. Tim Keller commented: “Out of the cross comes resurrection. Out of weakness comes real strength.” The cross is offensive because it does not shy away from addressing what it cost God to deal with humanity’s condition and the reality of our brokenness. The cross reminds us that we do have a problem and that we all need help. I love how Jesus puts an end to the need for us to pretend. Even when we are weak, God’s love will never be withdrawn. For the recovering perfectionists out there, and anyone else who might need to hear this today, it’s OK to be perfectly imperfect. 

Katherine Chow is associate vicar at Holy Trinity Brompton in London. htb.org @htbchurch