The secret layers of the Perfectionism Complex.

The secret layer is just that—it’s a secret. It’s something that is not always visible, and because of that, it’s not always something people understand. It is the foundation that formulates the perfectionism complex: the how and why behind it.

It’s actually pretty simple, even though it doesn’t seem like it. It comes from early experiences in life. This could look like trauma—someone telling you that you are not good enough, chaos, neglect or other forms of abuse, and needing to be “good,” “perfect,” or “not a problem” for someone else.

As we grow and learn, based on our experiences, our body and mind learn what is safe and what is not safe. They learn what love is. They learn how to get approval and what is needed to avoid harm. It’s sort of a beautiful paradox. On one hand, our minds and bodies learn how to protect themselves, and on the other, it’s because of something not so great. The heartbreaking part is that, although we may have some options, these situations often happen when we are children, and we are forced into these protective measures—not by choice. Over time, we are conditioned into these protective modes: being sensitive to threats, living in fight or flight, and always being on alert as a baseline.

I’m recognizing now that, although I’ve worked through so much of my trauma, the “always alert” is my baseline. It seems to exist for me constantly.

Throughout our lives, we develop core beliefs like “I’m not enough as I am,” or one of my favorites, “I’m responsible for what happens.” Another is “Mistakes are not safe,” or probably my top contender: “Other people’s feelings are my job.” Many more contenders include “I can’t trust myself” and “My feelings are not valid or important,” and the list goes on. Although people may not say these verbatim to you, you grow to believe them because of what they say and do to make you believe them. They don’t let you forget—they repeat it over and over again so you remember, just in case you didn’t the first time.

There are so many repeated messages, in many forms, that create these beliefs. To name a few: conditional love, performance-based worth, and responsibility and overfunctioning. These messages can sound like: “You should have known better,” “Be the bigger person,” “Stop being so sensitive,” or “What’s wrong with you?” “You are gaining too much weight” They can even be messages you don’t hear directly, but instead learn through actions that shape your environment.

They are often created subconsciously because of these repeated messages, and we use them to make sense of our experiences. If someone I perceive to be trustworthy says these things to me, it must be true… I’m not fulfilling their expectations of me, so I must be—fill in the blank here.

These secret layers are the foundation of our existence. So as simple as these ideas are, and as simple as their origins may be, the complexity of undoing them almost seems impossible. It’s truly what I’ve been working on for the past 10 years or more—which is about a quarter of my life. Buckle up, friends. It’s not easy, but it can be done.

With time, and patience, healing is possible.

Perfectionism

Brene Brown states, and I’m paraphrasing: Guilt is, “I did something bad”, Shame is, “I am bad”. Perfectionism comes from shame. It is one of our greatest barriers, and also one of our most dangerous defense mechanisms. When striving for perfectionism, there is this side that comes with it that says if you do it all, perfectly, you create a world where you avoid feeling judged, failure, blame.. etc. You get the picture. It seems like it’s protecting us, but it actually prevents us from being seen (common thread here).

When you grow up with someone who has wishy-washy expectations, who gaslights your experience, is unpredictable, and emotionally unregulated… You learn to strive for perfectionism, and it’s really ingrained into your system 24/7 as a child, and when you practice this, even unconsciously, it becomes a part of you forever. You try so hard to actually fit the mold they are seeking, which truly doesn’t exist, so that you don’t continue to get hurt. You hope that if you are good enough and strive for this “perfect” version of yourself for them, they will accept you as you are and love you more. It’s emotionally and mentally exhausting. Wow. That was unexpected. It’s emotionally and mentally exhausting. Which is something I’ve been carrying since I was a child. How sad.

When I wrote that, my jaw unclenched just a little bit. I have been really performing and trying to be something with no end in sight, like creating this level of perfectionism that doesn’t exist.

I actually worked on this a lot with my relationship with food and my body. In losing weight, I realized that I was working towards something that I didn’t actually understand. The expectations in society for the identified perfect body are, definable in some retrospect (I guess), but that changes almost to the person, to the right person. So when you internalize it, there is no end in sight. Unless you are happy with yourself and where you are at, you will always be searching to be different.

In other parts of my life, I am starting to see it’s still around, it’s still ingrained into my cells, twisted like little protectors clenching my muscles. I feel it when stress comes more often, I feel it when I am being criticized, I feel it when things are hard, I feel it when I let myself down. I have fibromyalgia because of the trauma and stress of trying to be perfect my whole life. I write that, holding back tears. WHAT THE ACTUAL.

I have no words right now, other than this is something I need to think about more, and how to undo it.

Thanks for listening.