“Are you a perfectionist?” said my family friend who was helping me with my college applications. We were sitting at her kitchen table, laptops open at one of our last meetings in late November. She had asked me this after I explained to her that I had not yet turned in my essays, the essays that had stood still for weeks after months of editing and revising, and after feedback from four people. “I feel like there is more I can do, I just want to wait a couple of days,” I told her.
When those couple of days passed, and the day of the deadline arrived, I sat on my couch at 11:30pm. At this point with 30 minutes left, surely, I thought, there was something more that I could do. I meticulously read through my essay, looking for word changes, sentence changes, and structural changes that I could make. “Once I clicked submit, the control was out of my hands, and rejection was ever more possible,” I had thought to myself.
When my family friend had asked me this question, if I was a perfectionist, I answered yes, as if I was aware of this so-called perfectionism that I had apparently shown. Although, I did not completely understand why she had asked that. “Since when does caring about your work and maximizing your time make you a perfectionist?” I thought, after I got home from that meeting. My teachers had taught me to be organized and to always do my best. What was the problem?
Personal Examples of Perfectionism
During my second year of college, my apartment complex offered free breakfast one morning in the lounge as a motivator during our week of final exams. My roommates and I planned to take advantage of this. When the morning came, I had woken up late, with ten minutes to spare before the breakfast had been packed away. I had to go fast, but my hair was a ball of mess, my eye bags were thick, my voice was scratchy and nasally. Usually, I had given myself at least 30 minutes of time to get ready to avoid problems like these. “What should I do?” I thought to myself. I cannot possibly show up in just sweats and a t – shirt. Who knows who would be at my apartment lounge, who knows who would be judging me. This would feel like I was exposing myself, like a wall that I had carefully crafted for myself would be knocked down. With the ten minutes that I had, while my roommates were waiting for me on the couch in their pajamas, I put on a maroon v-neck sweater and a white puffer vest with some jeans. “I have work after this. I am getting ready early. It is efficient,” I told myself. Except, my shift didn’t start for another hour and a half.
Another night, also in college, my friends and I were getting ready to go bowling. My roommates and I picked out our outfits together, and we were putting on our makeup. I applied my typical “every – day,” makeup as I normally did. Concealer with a moist beauty blender, bronzer applied to my cheek bones and forehead corners, intensely curled eyelashes and brows filled in, gaps covered and edges blended. When I was finished, I took a look at myself in the mirror. I wanted more, I needed more. I scanned my makeup bag for additional products. Eyeliner? No. Eyeshadow? Too much. I decided to add extra coats of mascara, lip liner and lip gloss. It was a seal, it sealed me in. It was a way to ensure nothing could be said. I grabbed my bag and went down confident that I was safe.
Perfectionism as a Tool For Connection
Thankfully I am not alone in these experiences of externally “putting myself together” in order to avoid feeling vulnerable. Karyn Hall, a therapist and author, describes the perfectionist approach to relationships: “While perfectionism often seems like a quest for excellence (a desirable trait), underneath, it may reveal a deeper need: the desire to be accepted, safe, and loved. We all have that. It’s a human characteristic. But [the perfectionist] … can use their perfectionism in an effort to get those needs met,” (Hall, 2025).
The Problem with Perfection
The problem was that I could not show up authentically. I could not be vulnerable. Perfect meant always put together. Perfect meant showing no weakness, no flaw. Perfect meant nobody could see through me. Perfect meant there was nothing that anyone could comment on. Perfect meant I was sealed in a vacuum of safety with no cracks.
How could I connect with others with this front of perfection always on? Always put together, always polished, not a problem in my life. How could people ever come to relate to me in this way?
Healing Perfectionism
After becoming aware of these tendencies, I started to explore why I felt the need to be perfect, and what I felt would happen if the perfectionism disappeared. Like I would be outcasted, ridiculed, called out. I was not sure what for, exactly. I was not sure what I was protecting myself from (myself?), but the perfectionism felt like a seal, like a safe bubble.
With this mental exploration, I slowly began to show up more authentically, more like myself. Less polished and more real. This led to immense inner healing and more happiness. I did not see myself as “perfectly imperfect” – this would imply that perfection still had some value — being imperfect in a perfect way. I wanted to squash the term perfect all together.
I still value hard work. I do not think I would have done my college easy process differently, I may still have stayed up late until the deadline. But the approach would be much different. I would not see my college acceptances or rejections as an uplift or a hit to my character. It wouldn’t go that deep, because I would feel enough already.
References
Hall, K. (2025, June 18). Perfectly alone: How perfectionism undermines connection. Psychology Today. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/pieces-of-mind/202506/perfectly-alone-how-perfectionism-undermines-connection
In Common Light 
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