The Devil Wears Perfectionism
A few days ago, I caught myself falling into a familiar trap: allowing my inner Miranda Priestly to take over my life.
Remember Miranda, the icily imperious fashion magazine editor from The Devil Wears Prada? She terrorized and traumatized her many assistants in the pursuit of perfection, demanding complete dedication to the job, at all hours of the day and night.
My Miranda lives in my head, emerging when I set myself ambitious goals, to hiss at me that I’ll never achieve anything if I don’t drop everything and focus exclusively on work. She surfaced recently when I decided to get serious about completing the novel I’m working on.
It was Miranda’s voice that prompted me to announce during a phone call to discuss the book: “I’ll probably have to start getting up at 5 am to get this novel written. I know I’ll feel half-dead by 4 pm, which is exactly when I need to deal with homework help, dinner, walking the dogs, cleaning the kitchen, and all the rest of it, but it’s the only way to get it done…”
As I spoke, I felt proud of my (future) discipline while dreading the way I knew this would make me feel and behave. Because, when I’m in this “zone,” my family, and their innocent attempts to connect through conversation, and human needs for sustenance and guidance, turn into annoying obstacles to grumble about and maneuver around.
When my inner Miranda takes over, I am not very nice to live with…
But I felt committed to the plan because it’s worked for me in the past. To achieve big goals, I have almost always taken an all-or-nothing approach that sucks the joy out of life, vowing to get up early, stay up late, cancel everything fun, and devote myself entirely to work until insert important goal is achieved, at which time I will reward myself by spending time indulging in all my favorite things again. My inner Miranda issues orders while my inner Andy (the hard-working assistant) attempts to satisfy her demands.
But just like in the movie, this strategy only goes so far. Miranda’s assistants inevitably get sick, ruin their relationships, and quit; and when I’ve worked this way, it’s led to physical and mental burnout. I’ve decided that while it’s important to finish writing this book, I want to find a new Miranda-free way of doing it.
I have not set my alarm for 5 am…
Instead, I’ve done something that makes my inner Miranda Priestly very, very nervous: I have given myself permission to prioritize the important goal of finishing my book while also enjoying my life. Instead of spending every available minute writing and consequently making myself miserable by canceling everything I love; I have made it an equally important goal to ensure I do something fun and joyful every day while making slow and steady progress on the book.
Sticking to this plan will be hard. Because the truth is, following my inner Miranda is easy, in a twisted way: given my Type A, perfectionist tendencies, it’s seductively simple to focus on just one thing to the exclusion of all else.
But it’s time for me to say “Thanks for your service, Miranda. That’s all!”
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