I’VE BEEN A perfectionist for most of my life.
In all honesty, I’ve been rewarded quite nicely because of it.
At the same time, though, it’s caused a lot of unnecessary tears, tension, and trials for me and for the people around me.
It was 7:27 in the morning. I’d already been up a few hours trying to tackle my lengthy to-do list before flying to New York around noon. I still had to pack, wondering what shoes I should bring; respond to a journalist about how to excel during change in the workplace; empty the dishwasher; get my daughters’ breakfasts ready; and test my eight-year-old on her spelling words.
My stress level was definitely up there, but I was trying to keep it together.
“Unpleasant,” I said, reciting a word from the spelling ...