There are two worlds inside my head that can no longer co-exist. One of them is The Perfectionist. Everything has to be right, above and beyond, on the first try. Not because someone else expects it, but because I demand it of myself. It’s an evil world that robs you of sleep, creativity, and joy. I think I’ve grown up thinking it was the perfectionist inside my head that allowed me to get that 4.0, achieve that goal, find that new and better way to do something. I’ve been wrong my whole life.
And being that wrong? It turns out that it goes completely against what The Perfectionist in my head would allow.
Also in my head is The Innovator. The Innovator doesn’t care if it’s right, if it’s messy, or even it works on the first try. The Innovator will even openly tell you just how ridiculous the idea was, because it’s probably a funny story, and if we can’t laugh at ourselves, well, we’re not really living. The Innovator is a free-spirt and finds art in mud puddles, Instagrams patterns that turn out to be Sharpie inspired art later on. The Innovator doesn’t believe in following instructions, waiting for an invitation, or failing…as long as that failure is the pathway to something better. The Innovator explores, hacks, creates, and shares it… open to a world of vulnerability, because that’s just the way we know we’re alive. The Innovator looks failure in the eye and steps on it… and then builds something even better out of it. Every time.
Led by passion, heart, and a bit of insanity that sees possibilities in messiness, nothing stops the innovator.
Except one thing.
The Perfectionist.
There is no co-existence for these two. The Perfectionist is motivated by fear and the Innovator is motivated by passion. There isn’t some cute little duplex where they live next door to each other and once in a while agree and high-five each other for making a decision. They are the neighbors in my head that despise each other. The Innovator’s side of the duplex has yellow polka dot shutters, an LED mosaic glass door, and a robotic doorbell that shakes your hand. The Perfectionist’s side? It’s stark, never decorated, because finishing something means it has to be perfect. Things only get finished when the Innovator wins.
So, the Perfectionist has been served an Eviction notice. I’m not even allowing the typical 30 days. It’s effective immediately. I’m sure it will take the Perfectionist a few days to pack, because the agonizing decisions over how to pack, what to fold, and where to put things that have to be, um, perfect, will be exhausting.
But, I’m not going to pay attention. I’m going to be over here, listening to The Innovator. Creating. Making. Exploring. And dabbling in mistakes. And holding a sign that says, “Good Riddance,” and just for good measure, I’m going to spell it wrong.