Perfectionism is tricky: It seems like a virtue and a point of honor, but taken to extremes, it's a paralyzing trap. In my years of working with clients, I've learned that although perfectionists believe their goal is excellence, more than anything else they are looking for security. Problem solvers at heart, they often feel an adrenaline rush
every time they go deep and start refining details. Airtight results make them feel safe, immunized against criticism from others. Yet they endlessly berate themselves. They're upset about not getting through that reading pile or not saying yes to every request. And they evaluate their work with one of two grades: Perfect or Complete Disaster. This approach is demoralizing, depressing, and unimaginative.
When I met Francine, a publicist for a large public relations firm, she was on probation. Her livelihood was in jeopardy if she didn’t start producing results fast. She described herself as someone who understood her company’s mission and had innovative ideas, but she developed a notorious reputation as a deadline-misser. What went into her office, never came out, creating chaos for her colleagues. Many of them resented her for being so far behind on projects that they got stuck working late.
After spending a little time with Francine, I saw that although she was working hard, maybe even harder than anyone else, she was falling victim to her own perfectionism. Her boss repeatedly stressed that it was more important to get things done on-time than to get them done impeccably, yet she couldn’t let go. She meticulously revised in-house e-mails and personally returned all phone calls, including the simplest requests for information, rather than ask an assistant to do it.
I explained to Francine that to survive in today's fast-paced culture, she needed to develop selective perfectionism, deciding which tasks have to be done 100 percent and which can be just good enough. How could she lower her standards, she asked, now that she was on probation? I suggested she apply the 80-20 rule: Only 20 percent of anyone's duties must be completed flawlessly--in her case, material distributed to the public, work that's essential to the revenue line of the business.
But no matter how much I assured her that most of the time "good enough" was indeed good enough, it was hard for Francine to release her need to do everything equally well. She began by practicing doing one small task less than brilliantly. She skimmed a subordinate's draft of an event proposal and forwarded it to her boss with a quick handwritten note, rather than investing an hour drafting a memo covering her every thought. Day by day, as she fought her old habits, she enjoyed the lighter feeling of letting small things go, but for several months she also lived with the anxiety that she was getting away with something.
The other shoe never dropped. Her boss was absolutely satisfied with her work. I reminded Francine that her harsh self-evaluations weren't necessarily in sync with other people's perceptions.
The real test came when she sent her boss a press release and it came back with suggestions for improvement. Her first reaction was panic: Francine felt that she had failed. Her boss assured her that his requests to change a few things here and there were nothing to be alarmed about. And that he valued her contribution to the team. Francine had to learn to tolerate corrections and not be undone by them.
I told her a story about my father: One of the most important driving lessons he gave me was that I was dealing with much more than the steering wheel. Before he let me stick the key in the ignition, he had me walk around the car and see how far this big metal machine extended in front of and behind me. Managing perfectionism requires you to develop similar points of reference. Just as a car is bigger than you think, your credibility and reputation extend beyond any single thing you do. You've got a body of work in front of you and a body of work behind you. You don't need to prove yourself with every last task, forgetting the ways you've proven yourself in the past and will again in the future.
So what if your work sometimes needs correcting? Imperfections are endearing. They make you easier to relate to, and they give other people a job to do. When you can accept help and suggestions from others, you realize that you really aren't in this alone.