Perfectionism Isn’t a Virtue

Recently, I had the opportunity to write a letter of recommendation for a coxswain, and while I was working on it, I was pondering ideas also for this month’s column. All too frequently I think, “What is there to say that I haven’t said already,” and then an idea will land in my lap. This month is no different, and it’s a concept we all need to hear and sit with for a while before the season begins.

In the letter I wrote, I said this:

“She was confident in her strengths, open about her weaknesses, and willing to push through the discomfort that all soon-to-be recovering perfectionists experience when we lean into the reality that perfectionism isn’t a virtue. It’s a myth that robs of us of the joy and satisfaction we could otherwise experience in the face of a job well done.”

Let me say it again, and louder for those in the back who didn’t hear me the first time: Perfectionism isn’t a virtue, it’s a myth.

For many of us who find rowing and become coxswains, it feels like a role we were born for. It’s an outlet for the strong-willed, assertive women who are mislabeled “bossy” little girls, it’s a space for us to embrace mental athleticism when our physical attributes fall short (no pun intended), and it’s a uniquely challenging opportunity that excites us in ways that conventional ones don’t. There’s something special about being a coxswain that I’ve never been able to put my finger on; it’s just a feeling that you have to experience to understand.

But being a coxswain is also hard. It’s isolating, it’s complex, and it provides numerous opportunities for us to lean into the worst parts of ourselves—the overly critical, invalidating, discrediting, anxious perfectionist that kicks you when you’re down and never fails to find a way to talk you out of the successes you’ve earned.

Do you feel called out yet?

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I acknowledged the toll that my own pursuit of perfection was taking on my mental health. When you’re already burned out and you feel unsupported and undervalued, it is shockingly easy to plant yourself firmly in your own way and tell yourself that you’re the problem. Things aren’t getting easier because you are not good enough, smart enough, capable enough, determined enough, and on and on and on. In most cases, though, you’ve set expectations so far outside the realm of reasonable possibility that no person could realistically attain them, let alone someone who is taking every opportunity to say to herself, “Hey, in case you forgot, you suck at your job”.

So how do we stop doing that? Well, I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out and probably will be for a really long time. But here are the things I’m committing myself to that have helped me begin seeing the light at the end of the very long tunnel. With the spring season right around the corner, I encourage you to come up with some commitments of your own to help guide you down the road of recovering perfectionism, and if you’re struggling to come up with any, I invite you to join me in mine.

1. Don’t let the idea of perfection get in the way of progress.

If you never make it to the execution phase because you’re stuck in the planning, or rather, procrastination phase, you’re intentionally stunting your own growth. Not just as an athlete but as a person. Not every “t” needs to be crossed and every “i” dotted before you try a new call or practice a new drill. The joy in learning comes from the process, not in doing it right the very first time.

2. Don’t talk yourself out of trying just because you might fail.

Failure isn’t the mistake; it’s the idea that you shouldn’t bother trying again.

3. Get comfortable being uncomfortable.

The perfect line, the perfect call, the perfect drill execution, none of it exists—and that is fine. Accepting that as a recovering perfectionist is uncomfortable, but it doesn’t mean that you’re settling for mediocrity (and coaches would do well to stop pushing that narrative). There’s far more growth to be gained in the flexibility of trying new things than there is in the rigid pursuit of perfection.

I’m a process person. I like the strategy of how to do something more than I care about the end result (not always, but usually). It was a harsh and humbling wake-up call when I realized that I was deliberately depriving myself of the thing I enjoy most simply because I’d convinced myself that if something wasn’t perfect, then the entire effort was a waste. Trust me: when you’re training for a 20-mile race and that moment of clarity hits you in the middle of an agonizing 12-mile run, it’s an unwelcome shock to the system. I felt called out by the part of myself that I’d been ignoring for a long time, the part that just wanted to have fun doing the things I love without the need for it to be “perfect” for it to have been worthwhile.

I love coxing more than I love rowing, which is another thing that can be tough to explain (especially to rowers), but I want other coxswains to find just as much joy in our role as I do. In order for that to happen, though, we have to get out of our own way first. It’s easy to put the blame on our coaches and our teammates for making our jobs hard(er), but we need to take a step back and recognize that we put out the energy we think we deserve. If we undervalue ourselves, downplay the work we put in, and diminish the role of the coxswain on our teams, how can we possibly expect coaches and rowers to do any differently?

Chapter 64 of Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching includes the line “A journey of a thousand miles starts under one’s feet,” or, as it’s more commonly stated, “a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” The road of recovering perfectionism is long and winding, and we have to be the ones to take the first step. In the time between now and the start of the season, let your guard down and give yourself the freedom to take that first step. Just do it. Don’t think about it, don’t overanalyze, just go. Commit to embracing the mistakes you make and learning enthusiastically from every single one. Be self-aware and humble enough to know when you can do better, but don’t let perfect be the enemy of good. Acknowledge the discomfort that you’ll experience and, most importantly, don’t be afraid to let people see you trying.

One last time: Perfectionism isn’t a virtue, it’s a myth. This season, let’s pursue the joy in excellence relentlessly and leave behind the myth that we don’t deserve it if we weren’t perfect in the pursuit.