I have a problem. Perfectionism. And I don't want my daughter to suffer as I have suffered from it.

     I have a problem.  It is a problem that has dogged me for 36 years. Since I was about 5 years old. I have low self-esteem.  I was not born with this; I learned it.  It comes from a perfectionism and perceived failures at being perfect.  It is a vicious cycle that leads to an ever deepening sense of failure culminating in increasing erosion of self concept. It all started when I was 5 and 6 years old when my father left my family.  I say left my family, but he was really just leaving my mother.  But I didn't perceive it that way in my 5-year-old mind.  One of my earliest memories was my father leaving.  I wanted to help him carry his stuff out to the car and I dropped his shaving cream.  It exploded and he reacted to it.  I felt like it was my fault - the shaving cream and the leaving. After he left, at 5 years old, I reverted to wetting my bed and pooping my pants.  This is common in children who have suffered some loss in their young lives. When I reached first grade the cycle continued as I took on the added problem of perfectionism.  You see, I had a crush on my young pretty teacher, Mrs White.  I started out the year in the lowest spelling, reading, and math groups.  But suddenly I rocketed to the highest math, spelling and reading groups.  It was then that I began the cycle of perfectionism that lasted 36 years of my life.  I thought I had to be super-kid, to be the smartest child that ever walked the face of the earth.  When I was faced with even the smallest perceived failure, I beat myself up for falling short.  I have done this for 36 years of my life.. since that time I was 5 and 6 years old.

     I remember being aware of my perfectionism when I was in my early teens because my teachers and family made me aware.  But in high school I forgot; it happened by the time I was in 9th grade.  I was always in the highest math, literature, foreign language, science, and English classes.  And when I fell short of being perfect, I beat myself up.  But it had become such a fundamental part of my makeup, that I had forgotten that this was perfectionism.  It wasn't until I was 40, sitting in my counselor's office that the revelation re-occurred to me. He said simply, "You suffer from perfectionism."  At first, it seemed to be a new thought; something I was never aware of.  But it resonated with me.  I knew it was true.  Shortly after I remembered my teenage years. I remembered the people I loved who were worried for me: they and my teachers warned me that I was a perfectionist.  But in my young life I wore it like a badge on my arm.  I thought it was an asset.

     I didn't realize until all those years later, that this was a major part of my problem.  A problem that led to my low self-esteem.  And if you don't believe this, let me share something with you.  When I was in my first semester of college at a prestigious large university, I became clinically depressed.  I remember that I had decided to write a paper on God in all the major world religions for my world religions class.  At this point I was sleeping all the time and it is a wonder I was getting to my classes at all.  I had isolated from my friends and I walked around feeling like someone had punched me in the pit of my stomach.  And I still was a perfectionist.  How can someone who has had only a cursory introduction to world religions possibly write a paper on who God is?  People pick a religion and still cannot sum up God in their tradition after following their path their whole lives.  But I had to get an A on it.  It was an impossible task and I thought I would fail. And this was just not an option for me. My only response to this was to shut down.  People who loved me recognized my behavior for what it was and I was admitted to the hospital, suicidal and near comatose.  I was in the hospital for three months of that winter. I got out as spring began to break through the dark winter months. The only thing that changed was now I was on medication to help with the constant barrage of negative thoughts that I had come to live with.

     I have lived this way for 20 years.  Taking medication, struggling constantly.  Always beating myself up.  It has only been in the last 10 years that I have come to see it for the problem it is.  And now, with my counselor's remarks, I had gotten to the root of the problem.  I got married 3 years ago and my wife is about to give birth to our first child.  I don't want to teach her this pattern of behavior that I wasted most of my life living in.  You see, the funny thing about this whole cycle is that I would never do this to another human being.  In fact, my family, friends and colleagues all know me as a great encourager.  And my primary love language to my wife and others is words of affirmation.  But I never applied this to myself.  I wouldn't treat anyone else the way I treat myself.  It is too cruel.

     So with my newfound insight, I am changing.  And it is just in the nick of time.  I am going to build my daughter up with my words of encouragement.  I am going to speak it into her heart that she is good enough, just the way she is.  I am going to focus on her strengths and tell her how she can learn from her weaknesses.  I am going to love her the way I could never love myself.  And I am starting to love myself.  I have dropped the perfectionism.

     I know now that perfectionism is not a badge to wear.  It is a deep seated root of low self concept and a waste of a tortured existence. I am getting free from that.  The opposite has been staring me in the face for 20 years of following Christ: grace.  Grace is knowing that we, with all our faults and problems, are accepted and loved by God for who we are.  And we art beautiful works of art by a loving creator's hand.  There is nothing we have to do to deserve this love, to deserve the grace that God showed us when his son died for us to save us from our sins.  This statement sounds like religious mumbo-jumbo.  What does it mean?  It means he loved us so much, that he removed all barriers to right standing with God, so we could come into his presence as the unblemished works of art that he made us.  As sons and daughters of God (who are now sons and daughters after Jesus showed us what it means to be the first son of God). Perfect in our weaknesses.  Loved so fully and completely that we can rely on this love, even in our darkest, most shameful, most hopeless times.  I wished I had known this in my depression.  It was soon after my depression that I started going to church.  And it has gotten me through some really hard times with the depression reoccurring every few years from that time on.  But I have been free of it for a few years now.  And things are getting so much better.

     I am looking forward to teaching life lessons to my daughter: life lessons that were learned over my 41 years of battle with myself.  I am free of it.  And I want my daughter to avoid all this by knowing one thing that I have learned.  You don't have to be perfect.  With all your faults and failures you are already perfect to God, to me and mom, and you can be perfect to yourself.  Without doing anything.  Just because you were born.  You are perfect without any striving to be so.  Why would you want to work towards something you already are?  And your faults don't make you imperfect, they make you strong. Strong and beautiful.  No, you are wonderful, just the way you are, my daughter.  Nothing can ever change that.

-I dedicate this post to my soon-to-be-born daughter.  You don't have to strive to be something you already are: perfect and loved. Loved more than you can know.