In How to Be Enough: Self-Acceptance for Self-Critics and Perfectionists, clinical psychologist Ellen Hendriksen tackles an issue that many might not consider a problem at all: perfectionism. In fact, Hendriksen concludes, the overly high standards, harsh inner voices, fear of judgment and other factors behind perfectionism interfere with our well-being and happiness, leaving us burned out and lonely. BookPage asked Hendriksen about her research, her understanding of her own perfectionism, and tips for how those of us with harsh inner critics can ease up on ourselves.
You cite the findings of researchers Thomas Curran and Andrew Hill that perfectionism—the tendency to demand of oneself a higher level of performance than a situation actually requires—is on the rise. What are some of the factors leading to that rise?
Perfectionism is hypothesized to be on the rise because the world is becoming more crowded, competitive and demanding. There are three types of perfectionism: self-oriented, where we’re hard on ourselves; other-oriented, where we’re hard on the people we think reflect on us like our partner, kids or direct reports; and socially prescribed, where we think others will be harsh and critical toward us. The research of Dr. Curran and Dr. Hill has shown us that socially prescribed perfectionism is rising the fastest. There’s a quote from Dr. Curran I think is particularly telling: “Perfectionism is the defining psychology of an economic system that’s hell-bent on overshooting human thresholds.” Essentially, the never-enough standards set by capitalism, competition, advertising and social media make us feel we need to achieve and consume ever more, simply to be adequate as a person.
“I like to say perfectionism makes us look like we’re hitting it out of the park, but we feel like we’re striking out.”
You note that you were surprised to discover your own perfectionism through your research. After all, perfectionists get things done, and their lives often look pretty great from the outside. Can you talk about this contrast, and your own experience with perfectionism?
I did a deep dive into perfectionism for my last book, How to Be Yourself, and the light bulb went off above my head—that was the first time the word perfectionism resonated with me. Perfectionism can lie at the heart of social anxiety because we set personally demanding standards for our social behavior—I have to sound smart, I can’t be awkward, I have to be chill and nonproblematic—and then criticize ourselves when we don’t reach those standards because we’re human.
But I think the term didn’t resonate with me before that—just like sometimes it doesn’t resonate with my perfectionistic therapy clients—because “perfectionism” is a bit of a misnomer. Perfectionism isn’t necessarily about striving to be perfect; it’s feeling like things are never good enough. People with perfectionism tend to set higher than necessary, personally demanding standards for themselves, focus on flaws when evaluating their performance, and feel particularly mortified when they find them. All these tendencies set us up for some pretty impressive showings: a spotless house, an enviable workout streak, promotions, being well liked. But internally, we’re focused on all the ways we’re falling short. It’s the equivalent of homing in on the one frowning face in the crowd full of smiles. I like to say perfectionism makes us look like we’re hitting it out of the park, but we feel like we’re striking out.
How can we recognize when perfectionism is getting in the way? And if this is difficult for a psychologist to recognize, is it even more difficult for the rest of us?
Sometimes perfectionism doesn’t get in the way. The adaptive form of perfectionism—where we strive for excellence for the sake of excellence but don’t stake our personal character on our performance—can buy us a lot. The healthy heart of perfectionism is a trait called conscientiousness, a tendency to do things well and thoroughly, which has been shown to be a strong predictor for both objective and subjective success in life. It predicts nothing less than life satisfaction.
But perfectionism does get in the way when it costs us more than it buys us. Clinical perfectionism, according to Roz Shafran, Zafra Cooper and Christopher Fairburn when they were colleagues at Oxford University, has two pillars. The first is a phenomenon called overevaluation, where our self-evaluation is overly dependent on striving to meet personally demanding standards. In other words, our character or worth hinges on our performance. We can overevaluate any kind of personal performance—our academic grades, job reviews, body weight or fitness, parenting or, in the case of social anxiety, social behavior. The second pillar is self-criticism, which is a harsh personal evaluation of ourselves. It saps motivation, drags us down and makes us feel like we’re under attack—because we are.
Once we’ve begun to see that perfectionism might not be serving us well, what are some simple first steps to take?
I’m so glad you said “simple first steps” because those of us with perfectionism tend to default to all-or-nothing overhauls. But we can make some small shifts that help a lot. One helpful shift is to take some of the proverbial eggs out of the basket of performance and redistribute them to other parts of our lives that defy performance, like connection and enjoyment. Instead of focusing squarely on our outcomes, we can focus on more qualitative experiences: Rather than striving to be entertaining during dinner out with friends, we can attend to the conversation. Rather than aiming for certain metrics on a run, we can enjoy the motion of our limbs. Rather than striving to follow the recipe exactly, we can notice that the kitchen smells amazing. Rather than focusing on how well we’re doing (or not doing), we can enjoy and connect in the moment.
You explain how perfectionism can arise from both inside (the inner critic) and outside (cultural expectations, anxious parents, etc.). Many, if not most, readers will relate to the concept of a harsh inner critic and negative self-talk. What do you suggest for managing that inner critic?
Yes, sometimes we’ll even get down on ourselves for being self-critical, and end up criticizing our self-criticism! “Why can’t I be kinder to myself—what is wrong with me?” “I have to be nicer to myself.” It’s exhausting. So rather than judging self-criticism as yet another perceived fault we have to fix, we can simply see it as something our brain naturally does. Just like some people are wired to be a little more optimistic or pessimistic, or introverted or extroverted, people with perfectionism are wired to be more self-critical than average. But that doesn’t mean we have to listen closely to our self-criticism or believe everything it says. It can just run in the background, like the conversation two tables over at the coffee shop. If we notice ourselves going down a rabbit hole of self-criticism, inadequacy or dissatisfaction, we can chalk it up to, “Oh, this is that thing my brain does,” and then refocus on what we want to be doing. In short, we don’t have to stop criticizing ourselves to feel better. Instead, we can change our relationship to self-criticism.
Is it possible that perfectionism doesn’t always look the same? For instance, if perfectionism leads to decision paralysis or procrastination on a project, could it actually look like inattentiveness or even slacking off?
Absolutely. Line up 100 people with perfectionism, and I’ll show you 100 different ways to manifest perfectionism, often in ways we least expect. For example, we might expect a stereotypical person with perfectionism to keep their home spotlessly clean. But a friend whose home is a disaster area may actually hold those high standards, too. But because they experience their standards as overwhelming or unattainable, they throw up their hands, say “Why try?” and live in a mess. That doesn’t look like the result of perfectionism, but it is.
In another example, the syndrome colloquially known as “failure to launch” can have perfectionism at its root: Overwhelmed by the demands of adulthood and self-imposed expectations of high achievement, affected young adults may be afraid to set even a low bar for themselves because of the negative personal implications if they can’t clear it. If they can’t achieve “all,” they find themselves stuck at “nothing.” That may look like laziness or slacking, but it’s the result, in part, of perfectionism.
And likewise, what lessons does your book offer to those who don’t consider themselves perfectionists, or who might even wish they were a little more perfectionistic?
One of my favorite techniques from the book is for comparing ourselves to others, which can certainly happen independently of perfectionism. Indeed, comparison is hardwired. It’s inevitable; we can’t even know if we’re tall or short without comparing ourselves to others. But it can become problematic if we use comparison to others to answer the questions, “Am I OK?” or “Am I good enough?” Then we’ve outsourced our self-worth to others.
We’ll usually compare on a variable that we’re insecure about. For example, a client we’ll call Abby compared herself to her boss. She was the same age as him, and the comparison made her feel like she was falling behind. To remedy this, she broadened her comparison points to include many other variables, both known, like education and years at the company, and unknown, like personal history, drives, vices, ambition, setbacks. The goal is not to tear the other person down or reassure yourself that you’re amazing; instead, it’s to include so many comparison points that we simply can’t answer the question, “Am I good enough?” by comparing ourselves to this person. The comparison concludes that you’re both incomparable individuals in all your complexity.
The book mostly draws on the experiences of composite clients. But it also includes the backstories of more well-known people, including two famous innovators, Walt Disney and Fred Rogers. They make a fascinating contrast. How did you come to include their stories?
It was truly fun to learn and write about them. Their stories come from my own organic reading. I had read each of their biographies for fun: The Good Neighbor by Maxwell King and Walt Disney by Neal Gabler, and I thought the two men made excellent foils for each other. Both Rogers and Disney were perfectionistic, but, as you say, they are a fascinating contrast of helpful and unhelpful perfectionism, respectively. I love biography and memoir for the same reasons I love being a therapist—I get to know people on a deeper level, learn their stories and experience aha moments of empathic insight as to what shaped them and their lives.
Line up 100 people with perfectionism, and I’ll show you 100 different ways to manifest perfectionism, often in ways we least expect.
What’s changed in your own life since writing How to Be Enough?
This will sound contradictory: Nothing has changed and, simultaneously, so much has changed. Nothing has changed because on the surface, everything looks the same: I am still conscientious and responsible. I still work hard and plan ahead. I still take care of my family and my clients. But at the same time, so much has changed. I’m driven less by self-imposed rules (“I have to . . . I should . . . ”) and more by what’s important or meaningful to me. I take mistakes and setbacks less personally and therefore am less down on myself when life doesn’t go according to plan (which is pretty much every day!). And socially, I focus more on connecting with people and less on whether I’m doing something wrong.
The titles of your two books are wonderful. We all want to be ourselves, and we all want to feel like we’re enough, just as we are. Is there a through line for these two books?
Yes! Ultimately, both books are about human connection. Social anxiety gets in the way of connecting with others in obvious ways: We think we need to hide our perceived flaws in order to avoid being judged or rejected, and we do that by opting out or hiding in plain sight. Perfectionism is a little more subtle, but also gets in the way of connection. Perfectionism is what researchers describe as “interpersonally motivated.” It convinces us we have to earn connection through performance—by being good at things. But think about why your friends are your friends. Is it because they got a good quarterly review, reached their goal weight or have a lot of social media followers? More likely, you’re friends because of how you make each other feel: understood, supported, known. They get you. You have a good time together. It’s not about performance at all. Each book questions the false promises of anxiety and perfectionism so we can connect with our true selves and the people in our lives.
Ellen Hendriksen author photo by Matthew Guillory.
