Sometimes Good Enough is Just Fine

I spent a great deal of time trying to be perfect in everything I did, from housework to schoolwork and paid work. I wanted to excel in all aspects. It wasn’t enough to be complimented on a job well done; I needed to outdo everybody and be seen as number one. I believed that in being as perfect as possible. I would be accepted and admired, never rendered invisible and of little value. It was tiring and meant that I worked harder than necessary to receive the same benefits as everyone else.

This need for perfection derived from being a child who lived in three aunts’ homes between the ages of nine and thirteen. Nearly every year, my sister and I moved to a different house, always the new kids who had to compete with our aunts’ children for time with the adults in our lives. I found that by making As in school, my aunts would be proud of me and give me more of their time. I felt loved at those times, opposed to feeling invisible at other times.

At work, being number one in production and output meant having the admiration and appreciation of my supervisors, although it didn’t endear me to my colleagues, who saw my extra effort as detrimental to their workload. For example, as an electronic technician who answered calls to repair computers and routers for company employees, I would receive 50 calls a day, resolving many issues without needing to escalate them to more experienced technicians. When my supervisor saw my output, she gave me a medallion that said, “Miracle worker!” I was proud of it until I received an email suggesting that I slow my workload, before everyone was expected to produce that output. I learned that the average number of calls among my coworkers was about half of what I was making. Needless to say, they were glad when I retired.

It took getting married to a wonderful man, who, seeing that my need for perfection in my housework and church work was making me ill, suggested that good enough was fine. He advised me that I didn’t need to kill myself just to please others. He said that he would love me, even if the house wasn’t always the best. He taught me to accept that I was no less valued if the house wasn’t superclean or if I let others at church do some of the work, instead of causing myself physical and mental exhaustion and pain from overdoing it.

So, now good enough is fine with me. I keep my house relatively clean, but as I am dealing with pinched nerves in the neck and lower back, I have had to slow down and accept that I can’t do it all anymore. It took time for me to adjust to not trying to be perfect in everything I did, but, oh, how glorious is the freedom to rest my weary body and soul, and not judge my value and worth by the work of my hands.

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