There comes a point in one’s life when one has to become more self-aware in order to build better relationships with those closest to you and with yourself. Most often, people will achieve this through therapy, but sometimes getting into a relationship and falling in love will prompt the same level of Jungian shadow work. A mirror is held in front of you for you to see, but you have to be brave enough to look at the reflection. This is what happened to me.

One thing you realize once you get into a relationship—or if you’re fortunate enough before you get into a relationship—is that if you go into it carrying any excess baggage, your trauma will become theirs, and you will suffer through it together. My trauma is perfectionism.

An involuntary disease of contradiction

Perfection doesn’t really make sense on many levels, and with my own experience of it, I realized that it’s possibly the only disease known to man that’s voluntary yet simultaneously involuntary. Involuntary in my case because I almost let it ruin my relationship without even realizing it, and voluntary because I chose not to hold on to it, lest it ruin my relationship. Again, this doesn’t make sense—it’s not meant to; that’s how perfectionism works.

It’s a weird disease, and one that I’m not sure there’s even any cure for. It’s like an addiction. Can a true perfectionist ever really unshackle themselves from it? Even the term “true perfectionist” carries connotations of perfecting the art of perfection. As if there’s a tier of perfection unworthy of baring the name. But that in itself is a contradiction. Perfect is perfect; there are no degrees of perfection; it either is or isn’t.

Perfection vs. reality

The thing with perfectionism is that sometimes it’s so ingrained in me that it exists undetected, and I only realize I am suffering from it when it’s too late. Here, it crept up on me over the course of a year and only reared its ugly head when my falsely constructed internal world was forced to confront the objectively constructed reality. Reality is a formidable foe for perfectionism, and indeed for everyone and everything. When undisturbed, reality exists harmoniously and flows effortlessly from moment to moment, but when met by resistance, this bullet train will lay waste to anything in its path. One cannot argue with reality, nor can one defeat it; it just is and always will be. In a sense, reality (or being, God, the universe, or whatever you want to call it) is the only perfect thing, and so it taunts the falsely constructed internal world of the perfectionist—it’s everything the perfectionist wants to be. So, it makes sense that when they come up against each other, reality always comes out on top against what is essentially a cheap imitation. It’s inevitable.

My desire to allow perfectionism to permeate every aspect of my being was always to the detriment of myself. I don’t say this to be nonchalantly dismissive about it because this isn’t something that I’m happy with—how could I be? I say this because this self-inflicted torture was only directly claiming one victim, and given that the victim and the perpetrator are the same person (me), the healing of any damage caused would only require that I work with myself. Easier said than done, of course, but the fewer variables, the straighter things tend to be.

My seedy love affair

Unfortunately, going into my relationship without having healed that aspect of myself meant that I dragged someone else into my fabricated internal world where everything needed to live up to my idea of perfection, including them.

And for a period, this person complied, impressively subduing my perfectionist in the process. And then they didn’t, and thus marked the moment when things took a turn for the worst. It threatened everything I believed about them and ultimately shattered my image of the relationship, leading to the intrusive thought that it was all built on a lie. As I tried to resist, my falsely constructed internal world was under siege by none other than reality. It was an unprovoked attack, and one that my perfectionist never stood a chance against.

On further reflection, even more intrusive thoughts came up. The most unsettling however was the possibility that I may have fallen in love with an idealised figure, who had been put on a pedestal, the implications of which were grave. What if it wasn’t the real them that I fell in love with? What if the real them isn’t good enough for me? What if I can’t look past their imperfections? The answer to these questions was the same and indeed the most frightening thought to confront: the relationship wouldn’t be able to continue in its current state. At that point I realise I had a choice. I either mourn the death of this perfect version of them and let go of our relationship in order to continue my toxic affair with my perfectionist, or I accept their flaws, embrace their imperfection and move on in full knowledge that it was the real object of my love that I fell in love with, and stay faithful to them from here on. Given my unhealthy attachment to my perfectionist it was a scary choice, an unknown. I chose the latter.

A lesson in love from my dearest frenemy

Whenever you're afraid, it's proof that you've turned your back on love and chosen to have faith in the ego.

(Gabrielle Bernstein)

As much as this stage hurt, I learned a great deal from it, both about myself and my perfection. In this instance, my perfectionist set the object of my love up for failure and me up for hurt. It’s impossible to be perfect, so it was only a matter of time before reality exposed it, and as I experienced, it did so viciously. It’s a shame it took me to involve someone I love in this secret affair for me to realize how toxic it was. As soon as I realized that my perfectionist was harming the person I love, I chose to let go of it—there’s only room in this relationship for two people.

I chose to let go of it because it was hurting someone I love. I realize now that this was a lesson for me too. I ought to treat myself like someone I love, and if I’m not willing to subject someone I love to my perfectionist, then neither should I do so to myself. Upon realizing what I was doing, I didn’t even think about letting go. I just knew I had to do it because my love for this person is so great.

So, every time I find myself attempting to indulge in this forbidden affair, I’ll remind myself that if I’m willing to subject someone I love to perfection, then I might as well wed myself to my perfectionist and fiercely protect us both from our enemies. What a miserable and deluded existence that would be!

Finding Perfection in Imperfection

Interestingly, I’m still in a relationship with this person despite experiencing a crisis so serious. This internal conflict I’ve had to battle through also highlighted the importance of this relationship to my being, and it will only be halted when my time in this reality finally comes to an end. Perfection really will devour everything if you let it.

And what else have I learned from this integrative live-action therapeutic exercise (or relationship, as it’s commonly referred to)? I don’t need to chase perfection. It’s tiring and will always lead to failure. It will torture me. It’s harmful and toxic, and it’s not something I’d subject someone I love to. That perfectionism is a fear-based survival instinct created by the ego, and it won’t just ruin your relationship with others; it will ruin the most important relationship you have: the one with yourself.

The frustrating thing, though, is that this isn’t anything I didn’t already know.