The Relentless Pursuit of Perfection

If you ever get the chance to ride in a Lexus, I highly recommend it. They are absurdly comfortable and are without question, the smoothest cars I have ever ridden in. For the record, I am not Lexus material. Not yet at least. Actually, I’m not really a “car guy”, but every once in awhile I’ll see a Lexus rolling down the highway, and I’ll think about how fun it would be to drive such a cool car. Then I think about the car payment, and my focus quickly shifts to things like braces and college funds and I move on. Recently, I saw a brand new Lexus and I thought about their old marketing slogan, “The Relentless Pursuit of Perfection”. As I watched the car drive by, it dawned on me. Like Lexus, my life has been my own personal, relentless pursuit of perfection.

My pursuit began at an early age. As a child, I had a “strong, silent type” father who rarely shared his thoughts and feelings. All I really wanted, like most sons, was for him to be proud of me. But growing up, I can’t remember ever hearing him say that he was. As a result, I became incredibly competitive. Everything I did – school, sports, everything – was a competition. An opportunity to win, to be “perfect”.

I felt like if I could do something “perfectly”, surely it would finally make him proud. But no matter how hard I tried, the words never came. I was never perfect, always could have done better, always could have scored more points. The seeds of my “relentless pursuit of perfection” had been planted.

I’ve been told that “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” and as it was, my dad was also incredibly competitive. He would never let me win at anything, ever. Whether we were playing cards, basketball or trivial pursuit, he won every time. No matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough. I am not saying that I wanted him to “throw” a game on purpose, but would it have killed him to let me win every once in awhile? To let me experience feeling good enough just once?

We played sports quite a bit when I was a scrawny, uncoordinated kid, but once I grew to a point where I could give him a legitimate run for his money, we stopped. He was always too busy. I never had the chance to prove to him that I was good enough, and that he should be proud of me. He didn’t allow it.

Now, as an adult, one of the biggest struggles I continue to face is my insatiable need to be perfect. It isn’t a matter of “wanting to be perfect” or even “hoping to be perfect”, I feel like I MUST be perfect in order to feel valuable. This need has affected every area of my life – career, relationships, parenting, everything. I have been wired with this unattainable need for perfection to try to achieve some sense of self-worth. I remember working on a large project a few years ago. I was alone at work on a Saturday night stressed out about a looming deadline. Completely overwhelmed, I found myself lying on the floor in the middle of my office fully convinced that I was having a heart attack. I was having trouble breathing and my whole body ached. Sadly, the only reason I didn’t go to the emergency room was because I figured people would laugh at me for being overly dramatic. I didn’t care about the health ramifications of a possible heart attack. I was just worried about how people would perceive me if I was wrong.

The real trouble with tying my feelings of self-worth to something as elusive as perfection is that I am unbelievably hard on myself all the time. Whatever I do, I always feel like I could have, should have, done better. I constantly judge myself, and I am ruthless. Photographs are the worst. I can’t tell you how many times I have looked at a great picture of the family on some fun adventure, smiling faces all over the place, everyone having a wonderful time, and all I can think is “my goodness is my forehead really that big” or “geez I have got to get to the gym”.

I think we all do that to a certain extent, but just once, I would love to look at a picture and say “my goodness, who is that handsome devil?” and really mean it.

But no, I continue to be my own worst critic. It’s frustrating and exhausting, but I almost feel like every time I fail, or need help, or don’t know the answer, that I am a kid again trying hard to make my dad proud. Most of the time, I end up feeling like I did when I was a kid – that I wasn’t good enough. So, after knocking back a half gallon of ice cream, I vow to try even harder and end up pushing myself even more to be perfect. Admittedly, not exactly the healthiest way of handling the situation.

For the past year or so, I have tried to work on embracing my imperfections, but it’s hard. I often get frustrated when I read or hear that “there is no such thing as perfect” or “we are all perfect in our own way”. I don’t disagree, it’s just that these assertions never seem to take into account the “why” behind our relentless pursuits. To me, they seem to gloss over just how important the need for perfection can be to a person. To a 5 year old who thinks that being perfect is the only way to make his dad proud of him, or an adult who has spent 35 years trying to be perfect to achieve some level of self-worth, “perfection” is not just a subjective impossibility that shouldn’t be worried about. It is a need. Impossible to fulfill, but a need nonetheless.

Focusing on the question “why” has been the only way that I have made any progress on slowing my relentless pursuit. Why do I feel like I need to be perfect? Why do I feel like I am never good enough? Why am I so hard on myself? Now that I am a father myself, I think a lot about what kind of father my dad was for me. The painful reality for me, one that I have had a difficult time coming to terms with, is that my dad wasn’t always who I needed him to be. I love my dad, and I know that he did his best. For that I am incredibly grateful. He is by no means solely responsible for all of my issues, but the truth of the matter is that the choices he made as my father have had a lasting impact on my life – good and bad.

Having a clearer understanding of my “why” has given me the strength to work on addressing the problem. My relentless pursuit has left me exhausted and insecure, and I’m no closer to perfection than when I started. The reality is that I am not perfect, never will be perfect, but I have people that love me just the way I am. I am no longer that little kid trying to make his dad proud. I no longer need that. First and foremost, I am trying to cut myself some slack. Obsessing over trying to be perfect isn’t something that I consciously choose to do, it’s just a product of who I am. Big forehead, wrong answers, missed shots, whatever it is, I am working at trying to love it, because it’s me. And besides, my wife loves me, and she’s hot and smart, so I can’t be all bad, right?

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