Ever since I can remember I’ve struggled with perfectionism. Maybe it’s oldest child syndrome or something, but somewhere early on I got this idea in my head that everything I did needed to be perfect. I had to get perfect grades growing up, and let me tell you, in college that translated into way too much time spent studying and absolutely way too much heartache over my few A- grades. I had to be the nice, well-behaved child or I’d let my parents down somehow. I needed to know what was happening three weeks in advance so I could put it in my planner. I didn’t start drinking until fairly late in college because I was afraid to lose control.
During college I recognized that being so inflexible and focused on everything being just right was making my life harder, not easier, and less fun, so during my sophomore year I tried to start relaxing my uptight perfectionist qualities, just a bit. Continue reading “Progress, not perfection”