Somewhere buried deep in a woman’s DNA is an insidious gene that makes us believe we are responsible for everything. Since our brains are wired to see and predict every possible scenario— every possible thing that could go wrong or could be better— it makes sense that we are driven in this direction. But this estrogen-fueled excess of diligence and responsibility can be a horrible waste of time.
You know what we mean. We worry not only about our jobs but about other people’s tasks too. We organize birthday cakes and cards for colleagues, even when they might not want them. We fret about holiday gifts for assistants and teachers who’d be happy with something generic. We know all about it. We are just as guilty of compulsive perfectionism as you are.
katty During the 2008 presidential elections I had to travel quite a bit for work. Before each trip I’d make sure the family was organized so that there was minimum disruption when I was gone. I’d see that the fridge was full, meals planned, the babysitter organized for the extra hours, and the children set up with playdates. My husband, Tom, didn’t ask me to fix stuff, I just did it automatically. Then I found I was getting overstretched, and the travel was tiring anyway without all that domestic organizing and worrying. It began to occur to me that Tom never felt he should check the contents of the fridge before he went on a work trip. Soon I was getting resentful. Where was the recognition for all this stress and time I put in to make sure the house ran smoothly in my absence? But really it was all my own fault. Tom certainly never asked me to do all that shopping and planning before I left. He is a very involved, capable parent who is quite up to the task of running the house by himself for a few days. No, I was micromanaging—big time. So when planning the next trip, I decided just to pack my own bag and go. And guess what? Everyone was just fine (OK, so I did come back and find ten pounds of cod in the freezer because my husband’s grasp of cooking portions was a little undeveloped but, hey, that’s not the end of the world.) Nobody starved (there was plenty of fish), my husband arranged for the babysitter, and the kids got to school on time. Without me! Amazing! Of course a part of me, control freak that I am, was a bit put out—the universe of my home clearly doesn’t depend entirely on me and me alone! But once I’d dealt with my domestic ego, I found it was also very liberating.
When it comes to the work environment, our determination to control every detail of a project is just as pronounced as it is in the kitchen or playroom. For professional, ambitious women, this trait is even more acute—we tend to be overachieving perfectionists, so of course we don’t trust anyone else to do things right. After all, we know best!
claire I used to be a maniacal perfectionist, especially at work. I felt that every piece I put on the air had to have the same amount of blood, sweat, and tears poured into it. I’d labor into the night making endless changes, and often ruining the evenings of coworkers and friends and my spouse. I’ve finally realized that such perfectionism is not an option anymore if I want to see my family and keep colleagues happy. And so I’ve adjusted. I’ve figured out when I can do a "good” job and when I need to do a "perfect” job. With almost every assignment I get or propose, I make a decision at the start about how much time it deserves, before I start my "perfectionizing.” Basically, I’ve learned to be comfortable being "good enough” when it makes sense.
Here are two key lifestyle changes for all of you hyper-control-freak perfectionists out there: first, think “good enough”; second, start delegating.