Confessions of a recovering perfectionist

I had an interesting experience yesterday while talking to my surgeon during a skin cancer removal – always fun!

We got off on talking about poetry and she said that she wrote poetry and had since she was 14 but had never shown it to anyone!

Well, me being The Reluctant Poet that I am, it was sort of like the pot calling the kettle names but I told her how wonderful being on WordPress was where you can share your poems with everyone in a safe place. She related how she has destroyed some of her poems because “They weren’t good enough”. Does that sound familiar to anyone out there?

So, for any of you who hear your own inner voice or the voice of a Drill Sargent, Nun, Teacher, Parent, Spouse, sibling or any other person telling you negative things about Yourself or your talent here are some encouraging words from a, Recovering Perfectionist.

Please welcome, Amy from and her post “CONFESSIONS OF A RECOVERING PERFECTIONIST”

Our Nourished Table

I am a recovering perfectionist.

And yet…if you asked people who know me on a basic level, if I was or ever had been a perfectionist, they would probably laugh in your face.

You see,
I have a wild mane of curly hair.
That I never brush.

My car is a mess.
Old coffee cups in the cup holders.
A windshield that desperately needs to be cleaned.

I have a bank account
that tends to dwindle
then rise
depending on the season.
Consistency is not my strong suit.

At first glance, I am the complete opposite of a perfectionist.

But, if you asked people that I’m the most vulnerable with, the people that truly see me, they would nod in agreement. I am indeed a recovering perfectionist.

When my perfectionism was at it’s worst, I couldn’t make a decision about anything. For example, exercise. I would sit in my house…

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