Intro to my book

Woot woot! My book, Confessions of a Raging Perfectionist, is out and can be ordered on Amazon. Click on the link in the sidebar to purchase, or read the intro below for free. Free is always good, right??
Introduction This is not a book. Well, now it’s a book, but it didn’t start out that way. It began as my journal—a way to keep track of all the yucky things God was showing me about myself and what I’ve come to know as my addiction to perfection.
And I am addicted. Like most perfectionists, I want everything in my life to be beautiful. I want my home to look fabulous, my car to sparkle, and my love handles to disappear. I want my closets to be organized, my children to be well behaved and happy (usually in that order), and my editor to find zero mistakes. I want people to think I have everything under control, and I want to actually have everything under control. Safe to say, I have a number of unattainable goals. And what’s worse—I constantly keep track of how I’m doing to reach those goals. Or not. 

Maybe that’s why I love the movie Bridget Jones’s Diary. The plotline centers on Bridget’s diary and the drama in her life that becomes its content. She begins each day’s entry by listing her stats—pounds gained or lost, cigarettes smoked, men interested, books read, party invites received. She is, to put it mildly, a work in progress—someone who can’t get life quite right, no matter how hard she tries. And every success and failure is documented in her diary.

Aside from her British accent and chain smoking, I’m a lot like Bridget Jones. I begin each day with a list—keep the house picked up, limit myself to one Diet Coke, spend special time with each of my kids, work out, pray, avoid sugar, read a chapter in a book about something important, and so on and so forth. And then I determine each day’s worth by how many of those things I actually did. Like Bridget, pounds gained or lost, items checked off, stuff accomplished. 

And I must say, my lists are good. The things I want to do lead to good health and better relationships. While not everything is necessary, a number of things on the list are. After all, bills have to be paid, clothes have to be cleaned, and kids need attention. So, generally speaking, my problem is not my list. 

My problem, I’ve recently realized, is the significance I attach to the list—that if I lose five pounds and spend twenty minutes reading my Bible, I’ll be a better, more spiritual, more loving, more lovable person. When I fail to live up to my own expec­tations, I feel inadequate. Or more specifically (and as my stats frequently read), overweight, lazy, disorganized, and unworthy of the approval I seek. 

Thing is, I don’t think I’m alone. And I don’t think perfection­ists are the only ones whose identities are wrapped up in impos­sible goals. Most of the women I know, from our high school babysitter to my precious grandma, base much of their self-worth on stuff that can be crossed off a list. For Christian women, that’s a tragic irony—tragic because, like everyone else, we spend most of our time working toward unattainable goals; ironic because Christ died to free us from the notion that we must earn our worth.  

So it begs the question: Why do we keep track of our stats? And if we experience time after time the frustration and failure our personal expectations bring, why is it so hard to leave them behind? Is it possible to ever really be free? 

Hard to imagine because, as I said, I’m a raging perfection­ist, though this book isn’t about perfectionism, per se. Instead, it’s about how the pursuit of perfection has led me down a very wrong road—one that has produced and nurtured a dozen chap­ters’ worth of strangleholds. 

Because the things I’ve tried to make perfect have become my idols. 

In the past few years, God has been working to change my heart and move me toward the only perfect we’ll know in this life: Himself. And while that may sound pretty, I assure you it’s been rough. Coming to terms with my addiction to perfection has been hard and sad and exhausting—and at times, embarrassing (case in point, this book). But I’m on board with what God is doing; I want freedom. 

And so, in an effort to embrace my imperfect reality, every chapter of this book begins with my real stats. I’m hoping my transparency will pry me from the things that have become my idols, loosening their grip on my heart and mind.  

And I pray God will use my journey to further yours.