I’m a perfectionist. Always have been. And sometimes it drives me crazy.
Like most ‘Type-A’ people, there isn’t enough time in the day to be a perfectionist about everything, so we often prioritize areas of our lives where our standards need to reach their highest, and those where we can allow the ‘good enough’ standard to rule.
And again, like others, the areas that I’ve chosen for the most attention (where I have the highest standards) have remained relatively the same throughout my adult life: school and work performance, parenting, relationships, personal style, and the appearance of my home, office and cars.
The rest of my life is relegated to the ‘good enough’ category and, unfortunately, fitness, due to time constraints… or at least that’s what I tell myself, often finds itself in this one!
Being a ‘perfectionist’ in these many areas doesn’t mean that I actually reach perfection. Far from it. Just ask my husband. Or my son. Or my friends.
All it means is that I try my hardest in the areas that mean the most to me. But when I fail to meet those very high standards, I’m not very good at forgiving myself; however, just as I recommend to my clients in my role as their psychotherapist, I pick myself up, brush myself off, and allow myself the freedom to make mistakes, to make any amends that might be necessary, and to move forward. Period.
The area of ‘perfection’ that I’m addressing today is the appearance of my home. As I just mentioned, it’s been one of my ‘key’ focus areas, and today it so remains but I’m beginning to rethink its placement on my list.
That doesn’t mean I no longer care what it looks like; instead, it just means it no longer needs to look like a museum at all times of the day. Nor like it’s waiting for a photographer from Better Homes and Gardens to arrive.
Why the change in priority?
I’ve previously had dogs in my life and my home remained relatively camera-ready ‘perfect’. How? I’m not sure. Just a lot of time and attention. It was much larger, perhaps that made it easier.
At that time we brought home the kind of dogs where new owners are warned “Beware of Hair”.
And yes, there was a lot of it. Everywhere.
But between my housecleaner and the occupants of our home all was kept manageable. Almost ‘perfect’.
That was 17-years ago and lots has changed since then… except for my love of dogs.
In this new era, we downsized to a place one quarter the size of our previous home. Kids gone, the dogs moved on to heavenly pastures and life became simple. For a while.
The new place was beautifully decorated. Clean, shiny, new.
A few years later, we were informed our building had become ‘pet-friendly’. I was thrilled. And, soon after I brought home a new puppy, ‘shiny and new’ was replaced by crates, playpens, baby gates, indoor pee pads for house-training, an outdoor puppy potty area, and a ton of colourful toys that refused to blend in with the colour palette that I’d chosen for our living room.
Did I mention he had firehose diarrhea for two months?
Dining room chair legs became teething sticks, wet and muddy paws marked our lovely cream-coloured sectional (even after multiple washing – sofa AND dog), and carpet corners began to fray.
My previously gorgeous array of spring and summer flowers have become absent because, well, my dog will eat them – and the soil – and the pots – and I can’t afford the astronomical vet bills that would inevitably follow.
And then I brought home one more. The ‘beware of hair’ kind. Really?? Why??
My husband shook his head wondering whether I’d lost my mind. I did but somehow I’ve never regretted it.
It was then that I began to wonder whether I’d changed.
Where were my ‘camera-ready’ standards??
Was I losing a desire to be viewed in a certain way by others? Did I not care anymore?
WHO AM I?
Would my standards return once the dogs became old and docile? Maybe, but I’m not anxiously awaiting that time. Instead, I love having dogs back in my life. Like children, they teach us what’s really important in life, and moreover, what’s not. And having a ‘perfect’ looking home is not, at least to me at this time in my life.
Don’t misunderstand me. The appearance of my home is still important but not the way it used to be. I think I was trying to impress others rather than taking the time to actually enjoy living in it…really living in it.
So I make sure it looks great at the end of the day but we all get to enjoy the space in a way that I didn’t previously allow.
It’s a priority change, for sure, and not one that I’ve let go of as easily as it seems. For example, I still do have our wonderful housecleaner to help me mop up all that hair, the constant nose smudges on the mirrored closets, and other associated dog-related traces in our home.
And, to be honest, from time to time, I miss the ‘camera ready’ elegance that I was once surrounded with, and at those times, I yearn for the time where I can put the crates to bed permanently and to patching and replacing all the places that were used for teething.
But one thing is for sure: I’ll never regret the quality of life that was brought into our small living space by our two wonderful dogs. They add to my life the way a perfectly-designed home never did.
They add much-needed laughter to my life to counter the challenges I face with the kind of jobs that both my husband and I have.
They force me outside when I don’t feel like it and so the ‘good enough’ relegation of fitness is now moving upwards on my priority scale thanks to my dogs.
So it’s a win-win for all of us. I hope they both live forever.
In the end, I realize the things I wanted to control, like having the perfect home, limited the fuller life that was awaiting me. Now, I wonder, what else do I need to let go of?
How about you?