Taming the Beast
I am not an incompetent person. I came out of the womb a perfectionist and that bittersweet trait was only reinforced by my need to compete with an overachieving sibling and the teachings of a father with military-based meticulous habits. I do not believe in doing anything unless it is to the absolute best of my ability. I religiously impose upon myself a very strict self-discipline even in everyday activities, never allowing myself enjoyment or leisure until my chores have been taken care of, or my errands have been run. Just ask my husband- it drives him crazy: particularly because I expect the same of him. And everyone else I meet. (Heaven help our first born!)
Over the years, I’ve come to have a very delicate relationship with this part of myself. While my need for perfection has won me many things that I am proud of, it has also caused me a great deal of stress and often alienated me from peers or co-workers, so I have to be careful about how much power I give to it. Unfortunately, I am fiercely defensive about my performance in any work environment. So much so that I often have trouble with the conduct that should be exercised when dealing with my superiors. In previous work situations, I wanted to scream when my boss scolded me for forgetting to do something when I knew it was him who had forgotten it. I was fuming on the inside if I had done something a specific way because he gave a specific instruction and, when he didn’t remember giving it, decided that it was most definitely a mistake on my part. Not only would I tell him he was wrong, but I would try to find emails to support my stand or involve co-workers and ask if they recalled what I had as well. I would just about argue with him, actually, and all because I couldn’t stand to bear the responsibility of a mistake that was not mine, however trivial. It was hard enough for me to actually make a mistake, never mind pretend that I made one for the sake of the big man’s ego.
Needless to say, this made for a very strained relationship with my employers, and also coworkers, whom I treated similarly should they accuse me of having slipped up. For the most part, I was usually right, and the error lay with someone else. But every time, the whole process created unnecessary drama and no one, including myself, was any better for it. I wound up going home feeling guilty and returning to work feeling foolish instead of like the super-efficient employee that I really was. This was a lesson that I learned over and over again as I tried to find more constructive ways to handle “false accusations” and failed repeatedly, ending up angry and frustrated.
One miraculous day (at least, that’s what I’m choosing to believe because I don’t remember making a conscious decision about it) I woke up and decided that it just wasn’t worth it. I had a better chance of being seen as an exceptional employee if I just grit my teeth and bore through the few times that felt unjust to me and instead concentrated on being pleasant and being able to fix any mistakes (whatever their source) quickly and painlessly. After all, it didn’t happen often, and what did it really matter whose mistake it was if my boss knew he could always count on me to make sure it went away?
Don’t get me wrong- I haven’t done a complete 180. While my head is busy smiling and nodding, my mind still races a mile a minute with all of the things I could say or the proof I could come up with, etc, etc. But I value the relationships with my coworkers more than my need to be perfect, and I value our mission as a company and the goals we achieve together far more than those I accomplish alone. Plus, it’s nice to come in everyday feeling very secure in the fact that I am definitely seen as the super-efficient employee that I really am.
