Goodbye To An Old Frenemy

A Haiku and Goodbye to Perfectionism

Jes Raymond

Mar 04, 2025

Just like water and sunshine

You’re easy to love

I have been trying all week to write an essay that I have finally decided is three essays, and will be an upcoming series. This week, let me give you this Haiku and drawing and an archival post about resisting perfectionism since I’m feeling like I need that myself right now. Hang in there, folks; music is there for you, and you are, indeed, easy to love.

Goodbye To An Old Frenemy

Perfectionism is a big meanie and we can just say, "I don’t play with you any more".

Don't feel sorry for them. Don't make excuses for what made them that way. You don't have time for that. Perfectionism has never been your friend, and you’re allowed to tell them that you’re ceasing all communications.

It might not be easy. Even if you felt like you didn’t spend that much time together, you’ll probably miss them. I mean, once in awhile, they did give you a pretty good dopamine rush when they actually patted you on the back and said, “Good job! That one is PERFECT.” Don’t forget how they came back a few days later and told you they had changed their mind? “It wasn’t perfect- you haven’t shown it to anyone, have you?” An intermittent approval will mess with you more than no validation at all. It’s the crickets after the last one got applause that really twists your innards. You don’t need that. Perfectionism is not looking out for you. They aren’t your pal or your buddy or your chum. They’re scared, and it makes them mean. Don’t answer the door.

Can they pick you up for coffee? Nope. Can they borrow your jump rope? Nope again. You don’t have to be mean about it. Just push delete and get that contact off the phone. Be careful. They might get a new number under “Thoroughness” or “Prudence,” but don’t be fooled. It’s the same old bully.

They’ll try other ways. When you don’t answer, they’ll mail you a postcard. You don’t read those now.

What WILL you do when your faultfinder stops coming around?

Anything.

Go for a walk without a to do list. Stop by the river and watch the ice. Maybe just laugh. You might start like one of those laughter yogis who sound freaking crazy with their rhythmic ha. ha. ha. ha. haaah. Forced. Awkward. But then, you know, you’re here on your own now- remember? Perfectionism is NOT watching, you don’t have anything to prove. You can keep going. Ha. Ha. Ha. It might catch. The rhythm might get looser. A giggle could slip like a little trill of actual fun in all that labor. Then maybe a genuine grin and an honest to God little snort, and before you know it you're cracking up and breaking apart, and every time you try to stop you’ll wheeze and squeak and that’ll just send you over the edge again, splitting your sides while you try to catch your breath. You could get good at this.

But listen, be ready. You might feel a little grief, too. “Good glory, what could I have done if I just told the Old P. to get lost when they first showed up?” It hurts to see that WHOLE YEARS are missing when you add up the minutes that Perfect was yammering on and on. That time isn’t banked. It’s not polished and sitting tight. It isn’t asleep and waiting for your kiss.

You don’t get it back. It’s just gone. It makes sense to feel sad about that.

Take the time you need to take. Let it settle. It’ll get quiet.

And in that big quiet- YOU WILL HEAR SOMETHING.

They’ll be soft and hard to make out at first, but they’ll get bolder. This is music! These are poems! This is dreaming! Look out the window. You might not remember planting anything, but overnight, a golden tree bursting with imagination grew just for you. An old godmother showed up and waved her magic wand, but instead of glass slippers, all that sparkle will give you time and focus. It’s a miracle. And that’s when you might realize it was all always right there. Perfectionism had four hands, and they covered your eyes and ears.

You never needed to change. You have everything you need. Now you’re learning to look! Now you’re learning to listen!

MATCHMAKER: THINGS I THINK YOU MIGHT LOVE

Let me point you to my Substack friend Jason McBride’s super helpful essay: How the Practice of Haiku Can Help Keep You Resist Tyranny which I wholeheartedly recommend to learn more about the deeper practice of the Haiku form.