Part 2 of Making Friends at Any Age: Perfectionism Derails Connection
Perfectionism Creates and Deepens Loneliness
Just about every perfectionist I’ve worked with has had strong aversions to rejection, criticism, and conflict. Most of them would go as far as to say they fear those things. As a result, they tend to be hyper-attuned to facial expressions and body language that indicate someone might be unhappy with them.
That vigilance cannot help but influence all the relationships in our lives - from the deepest to the most superficial. We might have one or two people we feel safest with, but even there, a desire to hide flaws or negative emotions will get in the way. It’s tough to be open, trusting, non-defensive, and feel inadequate at the same time.
Ironically, the fear that our flaws will push people away creates distance. We’re cautious in our most intimate relationships and even more wary of messing up in conversations with acquaintances.
Lonely By the Numbers (Not Enough Friends)
Perfectionism not only creates a barrier between us and our loved ones; it also limits the number of people we connect with. Instead of feeling at ease, warm, and open to connection in social situations, the self-judgment in perfectionism makes us want to avoid being around people. We know it’ll be exhausting because we use so much thought and energy to make sure we’re not screwing it up.
In the prime of my socially hypervigilant era, I had much less desire to be around people. When I took the Myers-Briggs inventory in grad school, it “showed” I was an introvert. Fortunately, those tests are not a deep and accurate assessment of lifelong immutable traits. With less social anxiety than I used to have, I genuinely enjoy being around people!
Feeling drained by time with people and preferring time to yourself can be true, deep preferences. If you choose time on your own over busy social calendars and find that satisfying, that’s one thing. But if you think wistfully about the fun other people are having, or feel like the time you spend in quiet means something about you (something like: “I’m a loser,” or “I have nothing to do this weekend,” or “people don’t want to hang out with me”), then it might be worthwhile to try to change things up.
Lonely In a Crowd (or With Significant Others)
How many times has someone you care about asked you a question about something important in your life, and you felt you had to hedge or even lie?
“How’s your job going?” – “Oh, it’s great!” (you’ve just gotten a mediocre review from your boss, and you’re anxious and inadequate.)
“Are you mad at me?” – “No, not at all.” (you’re annoyed they asked you for a favor, but you’re the one who said yes, so it’s kind of on you anyway, right?)
“How are things with [your partner]?” - “They’re amazing. We’re planning a trip in a couple of months.” (you had a blow-up argument last night and slept in separate rooms)
That might not immediately sound like loneliness but remember that the person asking now has a superficial answer about something dear to you. Now, instead of feeling a sense of connection and support, you’re more isolated in your struggles and on steady alert to continue hiding them.
Loneliness Is More Common than You Think
If you can relate to any of the thoughts I named in the first part of this series, you might continue to feel alone even after reading about how common it is to feel socially vulnerable.
My job is amazing, and I get to hang out with other therapists, sometimes including folks I’ve looked up to and admired from afar. I have had the gift of hearing their anxieties and embarrassments and not just “knowing” I wasn’t alone but genuinely knowing I wasn’t alone.
In the interest of paying it forward, here are some ways self-consciousness, social anxiety, and perfectionism have gotten in my way.
My Embarrassing Story
I used to consider myself solidly introverted. I avoided social gatherings because they made me anxious about saying the wrong things. When I did go, I went over the tapes repeatedly, often during the wee hours of the morning, remembering embarrassing moments and awkward conversations.
I still have the occasional dark night of the soul, but not nearly as often as I used to.
It also led me to conclude many times and on very little evidence that a stranger and I wouldn’t get along or that they would reject me. “They’re so much cooler than me.”
Sound middle school? Definitely. And I had thoughts like that well into my early 40s!
Perfectionism Made Me Less Fun
I used to find it almost impossible to laugh at myself. When I was highly perfectionistic and extremely self-critical, joking around with friends could be terrifying. I was so afraid of looking dumb, of seeming clueless or silly, that I felt incredibly threatened by jokes (good-humored ones!) about something I’d done or said.
Once, in my early twenties, I went camping with friends and my now-husband. While using a utility knife to chop vegetables, I remarked how amazing it was that camping inspires such creativity! And it does, but as my friends pointed out, using a knife to do the job of… a knife… was not the greatest innovation humankind has ever known.
I panicked.
I recovered relatively quickly and acted like I was in on the joke. I knew it wouldn’t be cool to take offense. Inside, though, I was cringing with shame.
Even if I tried to hide it, I wasn’t relaxed and easygoing about my flaws (which we all have!), which inevitably affected my friends and made it tough for me to enjoy being around people.
I Didn’t Even Recognize My Fear
The insight I’m describing here was not remotely available to me then. I had no idea that I was self-conscious, anxious, or feeling distant or that it made sense to call it loneliness.
I felt flushed and sick, but it was my status quo. To the extent that I saw it as anything, it was one more layer to be ashamed of.
Step 1: Feel ashamed of my stupidity.
Step 2: Feel ashamed of my shame.
The Shame Made Sense
It was much easier for me to start recovering from that automatic shame once I realized it makes sense to care what other people think. There are significant downsides to being tuned in to their preferences and opinions at all times, and there are even more once you start modifying your behavior to fit those, but it’s not all or nothing.
We can be unique, buck tradition, question conventions, and recognize the poison in some traditions, and we’ll still have a much easier time in life if we don’t burp in a stranger’s face, stiff someone on a bill, or curse out our kid’s teacher.
Both sets of behaviors are influenced by “caring what other people think,” but that caring happens on a spectrum. Not all of it holds us back. Some amount of caring is indispensable!
The word shame has negative connotations for good reason. Feeling anxious, self-conscious, and inferior is painful and keeps us small. But most of us would embrace the same concept if we could lock in on the “self-aware and considerate” part of the spectrum.
We’re Social Animals
We need other people. It’s not just that we’re “wired for connection” – although we are, and we seem to instinctively recognize the importance of relationships very early – it’s that we cannot survive without the help of other people. If I lived in an apartment and never left the house except to go to work, I would still be at the mercy of people willing to trade labor (construction work to build the apartment) for money. And I’d need people willing to give me money for my labor.
We need to be good enough at interacting with strangers that we’re able to buy groceries. For food, shelter, medical care, clothing, and basic survival, we all depend on large groups of people. Navigating that would be challenging if we insisted on kicking people at random because we didn’t care what they thought.
The shared expectations of social environments are at least as important as laws are in enabling massive groups of strangers to live near each other. And most of us don’t just want to get by. We also want to be hired, have friends, and find romantic relationships.
I want to be aware of my potential to offend, disappoint, or otherwise alienate my friends. I don’t want to lose that ability and suddenly become oblivious to their facial expressions when I say something that doesn’t land how I thought it would.
Relationships (of All Kinds) Are High Stakes for Most of Us
The quest for friends, fame, and popularity is so widespread for good reason. It shows many of us want an insurance policy against our deepest fear: I will be rejected and alone forever. By contrast, if I get the endorsement of lots of people, I’ll know I’m doing okay.
Every single one of my clients has held their relationships–the important people in their lives–as a hands-down priority. The impulse to connect with people, to support and be supported, love and be loved, keeps us going as a species. Even more, the fear of losing those things, in a small dose, is essential to our ability to live together, have neighbors, and be coworkers and friends. Without at least a slight fear of messing up, we’d all run roughshod over each other and live in chaos.
Now that we can agree that there’s some profound, important stuff in our anxiety and even our shame, let’s talk about how we can dial it down to that smaller dose. Continue to Part 3.
Cheryl Delaney, MS, LPC
Cheryl Delaney is a Georgia-based therapist who specializes in helping people overcome perfectionism through online counseling. She’s been a bit of a goofball as long as she can remember. Her approach balances professionalism with warmth, making sessions feel effective and encouraging. When she's not in therapist mode, Cheryl's likely spending time with her husband, three kids, and two cats or absorbed in a podcast while doing the dishes.