When Good Enough Doesn't Exist

Perfectionism is idealism, the dogged pursuit of security, self-preservation, and self-love.

Perfectionism is a way to attempt to silence external and internal critics, stemming from the belief that one will be exposed by (and fall apart from) any negative social commentary. Just as we invest so much in preventing actual catastrophes, we truly believe that imperfection portends another one. The underlying beliefs of this specific coping mechanism are: “I can’t be loved as I am.” “If I’m exposed, I’ll be rejected.” “People don’t like losers.” “I can’t show any weakness.” For those individuals with a deep need for control, any loss feels intolerable. Each one feels personal, not revealing a trait of the other but her own inherently defective spirit. Her need to feel invulnerable is deep, yet her resilience is shallow.

So, when people say they’re pursuing or cultivating self-love, they often mean that they’re working on themselves to reach and harmonize with some higher self. When beginning therapy, self-compassion is the furthest thing from their minds, as they instead recruit the therapist to help them become more appealing, less genuine, and more successful. Treatment, they believe, is more like a series of personal training sessions. To them, the world exists in black and white, where one is either up or down, has either won or lost. On this basis, self-love becomes an obsession.

Many of us are notorious overthinkers, creating meaning out of every detail encountered. Yet, our self-concepts are more burdensome than exhilarating, causing us to obsess over how others relate to us. Perfectionism can entail the preoccupation with acquiring and maintaining self-love. One may argue that self-love can and ought to be unconditional. The founder of Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy, Albert Ellis, in referring to the preferred emotional state, noted, “…you always—yes, always—accept and respect yourself, your personhood, your being, whether or not you perform well and whether or not other people approve of you and your behaviors.” Yet, this may become its own version of perfectionism, wherein one attempts to become the perfect patient or an incredibly well-adjusted individual, who banishes threats to his self-image with hyper-independence and deaf ears to all criticism. A different form of greatness can then be obsessively pursued.

Fundamentally, the attempted cultivation of self-love invariably begets self-absorption, with a relentless monitoring of one’s performance, which is the only thing that seems to matter. Me, myself, and I.

However, the reality is that we need people and, as significantly, we need their authentic perspectives of us. Consider how often what you think of yourself affects your life and then consider how often what others think of you does. Living in a bubble, when perfectionists enter treatment, they’re often certain about how the world works and how others perceive them, yet they’re frequently wrong. Those who think too highly of themselves, believing themselves to be admirable, are often less liked, and those perfectionists who think too poorly of themselves are much better received. Perfectionism, in its rigidity of thought, is about control, yet it manages to contribute to unintended and undesired outcomes.

In the phenomenal show Baby Reindeer, about a comedian dealing with a stalker, the protagonist, Donny, elucidates his own preoccupation with self-love toward the end of the series. In his monologue to an unsuspecting audience, he noted that he was addicted to self-hate, but, in actuality, he was addicted to chasing and feeling self-love in spurts, beginning anew each time his fragile and perfect self-image faded. Donny couldn’t accept love; he couldn’t trust a version of love without constant admiration, but needed to be seen as “the person you came here to be.” His self-awareness, while impressive, was limited by his willful blindness to who he was: flawed.

Donny, unable to believe that anyone found him to be anything but disgusting, sought out an illusion. Yet, his vulnerability, or rather his deep shame, connected him to his audience. They discovered themselves in his speech. As he spoke, his audience more likely than not focused on the bond between them, which, in turn, silenced their own inner critics.

So, while pursuing some form of excellence may be desirable, chasing self-love doesn’t appear to have much of an effect on our inner chatter. The sense of relief Donny felt in his verbal and emotional release was likely mimicked by his crowd. An ancient proverb reads: “Enlightenment isn’t wisdom; it’s the feeling of lightness.” Donny got it in that moment!

When I challenge my patients' beliefs, I rarely explore the validity of their self-concepts; instead, I investigate whether they trust that others actually believe what they say about them. If one can learn to trust another, the validity of whether or not they’re beautiful or funny or smart becomes much less important than if the object of their affection believes they are. In seeing oneself in another, the rapture of love erodes the desire to possess fundamental truths. Consider a child. Do you think a child cares whether or not they’re lovable or more so that they’re loved?

We don’t ever develop the capacity to love ourselves; we merely benefit from feeling the affection we feel for others.