This overwhelming emptiness of white space floods the parameters of the screen. That is all it takes for perfectionism to take over. Just a blank, untarnished document. This blinking cursor, incredibly demanding, always begs for more to be typed. More text to be criticised by the perfectionist within; any words tarnish the page. Highlighted and backspaced. Leaving nothing but emptiness. Simply white, meaningless space.

Racking my brain for the perfect word, the perfect phrase, the perfect description. It truly is exhausting. Rereading and rewriting and redrafting once again. Writing alone is purely unbearable, as if a concrete wall is being reinforced between my thoughts and what’s eventually translated to the document. Each concrete slab blocking any ideas that struggle to surface. None of which seem to be good enough. Never enough to please the marker. It’s perfectionism that forms the barrier, restricting my ability to write freely. For an idea to be typed it must be perfect. Even the first time. And that is vital to perfectionists like me.

Running my fingers through my hair and scraping the grime from beneath my nails seems to be a common distraction from the screen. Two sentences I still hate, glaring back as each dark letter stains the tainted white beneath. A remarkably haunting contrast. As the blinding light surrounding each key brightens and the windows reflection in my laptop screen slowly fades, it’s apparent that my hours writing are not a reflection of my straining effort. Perfectionism is always to blame for belittling my progress.

I struggle to justify the supposed benefits of being a perfectionist when I believe it holds me back. Like a puppy attached to a lead as it tries to race over to a new friend, desperate to escape its relentless grip. Teachers compliment my passion for excellence and hardworking nature, which sometimes my peers are envious of. But my tedious obsession over meaningless words and hours staring tirelessly into a screen is certainly nothing to be praised for. Neither is it something to wish for.

Although, being perfect is far deeper than simply words on a screen.

It is the pressure to consistently be perfect. The expectation to adhere to the unrelenting standards of others. Even high personal standards which appear unreachable. That is what truly eats away at my confidence, which is easily shattered by a single number. The frightening mark. Students believe perfection is created by consistency. Someone who consistently achieves the maximum score and receives countless awards. That is a student’s perception of perfect. But it’s forgotten that perfection is only a concept. A concept which isn’t achievable. And that is something I need to be reminded. Especially as a perfectionist.

Consistency is how perfectionists become trapped. Trapped in a spiraling hole of second guessing and disappointment while striving to achieve the impossible. Perfection. It is mistakes which allow us to build towards perfection, not achieve it. Improvement is what matters. The perfect word, the perfect phrase, the perfect description cannot be found, because perfect can always be improved.

Perfection is a destination. Improvement is a journey. Whether it’s a test score below the maximum or a B grade as opposed to an A. These are not failures. Only learning opportunities. It is important to accept mistakes, accept imperfection, because improvement may be a longer journey, but it brings perfection closer.

Imogen Harris :: 2021 Graduate