That's a Wrap

14 days, 2600 miles, and 6 states later, we returned Gertrude the Gray to her owner in California.

Gertie is a class B recreational vehicle, 21 feet long, narrow enough to fit in a regular parking spot. She rattles and creaks when she goes, and she does not like high winds or speeds greater than 70mph. She drinks gasoline like a champ. Yet she’s a faithful trooper, and suffers other drivers with grace.

For the long stretches of driving, we listened to an audiobook, Self-Compassion by Kristen Neff. The book was an impulse purchase before the trip. I can’t even remember who recommended it. The narrator has a voice reminiscent of a hippie yoga instructor melded with a hypnotist, not the most invigorating, yet the book turned out to be one of the most profound and transformative parts of this trip.

I am a poster child for perfectionism. It goes something like this: when I plan a vacation, I put pressure on myself to find the best destination, to research the best things to do, to make sure we have the best experiences. I consider my travel companions, their likes and dislikes, which guides me to choose a hotel with a gym (so Won can work out), or an AirBnB with a claw foot tub and a wine bar on the corner (girls trip necessities), etc. It all has to be just perfect, or I feel bad that we missed out on something better. Predictably, something always goes awry. It rains on the day we were supposed to do an epic hike, or a delayed flight wreaks havoc with the schedule (in a spreadsheet, of course). It is an impossible standard, and of course I ruminate on the few things that go wrong, not the countless wonderful things that went right. But if I didn’t behave this way, how is anybody supposed to enjoy vacation, who else is going to plan it? I’m also addicted to the positive strokes I get for every successful vacation I plan. And so it goes, a lifetime of perfectionism.

I thought it was normal to have a critical voice in my head, telling me that if I just did a little better I might be good enough, that perfection is a reasonable expectation. Don’t all successful people have this inner voice of critique? Isn’t this a means to self-improvement?

Yet I don’t like that when something slips out of my control, my frustration spills over to the people around me. Or that my need to have things Just Right causes me to be inadvertently hyper-critical of others. I’ve always justified myself by having good intentions. In Chinese, it’s the concept of hao yi. If you meant well, have hao yi, then it’s forgivable to criticize your husband, constantly “suggest” corrections, and generally drive everyone crazy with your impossible standards. I’m learning in adulthood how destructive this is, to my sanity, and to my relationships.

Self-criticism just gets louder with time, more persistent with each achievement, and feeds a relentless anxiety to control that which is uncontrollable. It does not surprise me that women suffer from this perfectionism more than men, and that so many of us endure the stress of getting things Just Right, and live with the suffocating belief that we are not good enough.

Being compassionate and kind to oneself is a new concept for me, and still sounds a little hokey. But it is starting to make sense that if I allow myself a break, give myself the compassion to be “only” human, forgive myself for not having total control, I might be an easier person to be with. Certainly it is easier to let go. Good enough is good enough.

I’m not naive enough to think one book will get rid of that hyper-critical voice in me. Nor do I want to completely silence her. I like my attention to detail and drive to excellence, and I couldn’t change that about me if I wanted to. But it’s already been transformative these last few weeks to understand that high standards are one thing; while the unhealthy, anxious, punishing self-criticism is quite another. I whisper the self-compassion mantra to myself often, “May I be safe. May I be peaceful. May I be kind to myself. May I accept myself just as I am, and my life, just as it is.”

May 22, 2019