Madeline MacLean, Senior at Black River High School
I am a planner. A lister. A to-do-er, a check-off-er, a “well that’s done so let’s move on to the next thing” kind of person. In short, I am a perfectionist, and I don’t much like uncertainty. Unfortunately for me, life is full of uncertainties.
Already I’ve had to deal with many of them; currently I am in the middle of the biggest wait of my life (so far), hearing back from colleges. Ugh. I just want to know where I’m going already. At the same time, I’m terrified I’ll make the wrong choice and screw up my whole life. (I am also an overreactor.) But one of my friends, Morgan, will always tell me that God gives us difficult situations to help us grow in that area. Although that was difficult for me to grasp at first, I think I have gotten the idea with much more clarity now.
For those of you who don’t know, perfectionism is not something you can switch on and off. Sometimes it’s a good thing, of course (my spotless academic record and transcripts are proof of that). But when you just want to relax and watch some Doctor Who but you can’t forget that biology paper that isn’t even due until next Tuesday, it gets really annoying.
The first time I really realized that life wouldn’t derail even if your plans did was on the Appalachian Trail my first year with Fish Club. At the end of the first day of hiking, we realized we had started sixteen miles away from where we were supposed to be. Ergo, we were sixteen miles away from our campsite for the night. Larry and Anne had to hitchhike to where Gordon (honorary Sherpa for the year) was meeting us, leaving the rest of the group sitting by the side of the road with Jim Piers.
We were left there for several hours, unsure of what would become of us. Even when the thunder rolled in and it started pouring rain, it was still somehow fun. We told riddles, found a snake, waded in the river, and took Ian through the five stages of grieving for his watch. Finally Anne showed up with one of the vans and we all piled in, relieved to be out of the chilly rain. We got to our campsite, had a nice hot dinner, and fell asleep in our tents.
This is one of my favorite stories to tell about the AT, and it was definitely the first time I fully comprehended that just because something doesn’t go according to plan doesn’t mean that life grinds to a halt. Mistakes are allowed, and they always make excellent stories.
Since then, I think I’ve slowly gotten better at letting my perfectionism go. International travel has helped (where it’s nearly impossible to avoid lost bags, stolen iPods, and delayed flights), and it’s far easier for me to now shrug my shoulders and say, “It could be worse.” I pray every day for patience, wisdom, and the ability to let go.
Perfection is not something we should strive for, nor is it something any of us can be expected to achieve. Perfection is not what God wants from us; what God wants from us is for each of us to be the best version of ourselves that we can be. And the only way that we can get to that version is through God.
Yes, it’s terrifying looking into the abyss of my future (even if that future is only the next week or so). Yes, it’s anxiety-inducing to realize that I probably won’t finish all my homework for the weekend. Yes, it’s difficult to stop going over and over my college essays after they’ve already been turned in. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my perfectionism—one good thing, at least—it can be summed up in two words. Trust God.