One of the few significant constants among the different types of perfectionists—from those who believe they’re already perfect and refuse to accept their flaws to those who believe they can work hard enough to reach perfection—is the turbulent nature of many of their relationships.
While we tend to write about the perspectives of perfectionists, their high standards, and the subsequent ways in which they struggle, we seldom cover the experiences of their partners, friends, and colleagues. However, to the extent that people change in treatment, they often do so for others rather than for themselves. A common myth is that people need to want to change for themselves or else the change can’t be trusted. Yet, when we prioritize those in our lives above ourselves and our own obsessions, at least at times, we increase our ability to shift our personalities in somewhat meaningful ways. In essence, caring for them is a way to help ourselves.
Perfectionism is a complicated construct. It may manifest in grandiose narcissism, wherein the perfectionist perpetually pursues higher degrees of status and power in order to prove to themselves the reality of their inherent limitlessness (which may be marked by universal acclaim). To them, it embodies the ultimate form of security, which, simply, is unmitigated power (this tends to be associated with success-oriented perfectionism or striving for professional greatness). It may manifest in vulnerable narcissism, wherein the perfectionist barricades themselves from criticism, striving to create a utopian world in which the highest form of safety—the only goal worth calling meaningful—constitutes unbridled approval (this tends to be associated with moral perfectionism, the preoccupation with being perceived as being good). And the obsessive-compulsive perfectionist believes they can and should be perfect, thus, they suffer in perpetuity for the prospect of love, whether public or private (this is associated with both of the above mentioned forms of perfectionism). Each manifestation entails a preoccupation with fantasy and the belief that perfection leads one to paradise.
Partners or friends of perfectionists tend to get wrapped up in their worlds, settling for scraps of attention. When perfectionism is merely self-consuming, they’re chronically ignored. When it tends to be projected outward, they’re chronically mistreated. To live with a perfectionistic partner is to experience a never-ending sense of hopelessness and invalidation. Lower standards are mocked, praise is discounted, and blame is often shifted. The other individual is frequently left wondering if, in reality, they’re the problematic one.
Partners and friends of perfectionists frequently feel helpless. Just as perfectionists can’t seem to make themselves happy, neither do they allow anyone else to, with the exception of a larger group, of course. Doing so betrays a vulnerability, a recognition that one needs another and that the other may have any degree of power over them. (Needing groups or the public at large may feel easier to swallow, while an individual loss may feel more personal and significant.) For the rugged individualist, happiness exists within and for oneself, and anything else is branded as codependency, another weakness to eliminate. Yet, again, when we prioritize individual others above ourselves, their responses—affection, care, and curiosity—make us happy. On average, doing for them tends to make us happier than most of what we do for ourselves, even if the acts themselves annoy us. And, if we’re being honest with ourselves, rugged individualism doesn’t exist. Psychoanalyst Nancy McWilliams noted that narcissistically structured individuals profoundly need others but hardly love them, yet it’s also true that while they deeply need others, they profoundly fear loving them.
The partner, feeling isolated and unwanted, doesn’t recognize the perfectionist’s fear of personal affection. The perfectionist may be on the path to it (at least in theory) through fame and acclaim, building up the confidence to love as they prove their worth to themselves. Unfortunately, blinded by their tunnel vision, they can’t see that they already possess what seemingly lies at the end of this delusion-filled path, being unable to trust that another can love them with their imperfections.
Thus, they sabotage what they may want most.
This post was written more for the perfectionist and less for their partner. It’s up to the perfectionist to care enough about discovering how they affect and diminish those around them; it isn’t their partner’s job to constantly make excuses for them. To the extent that this post is written for their partners or friends, it’s to inform them that much of this isn’t personal. Perfectionists often can’t handle acknowledging the need for another, and they devalue those they’re in relationships with in the same ways in which they devalue their achievements, mainly due to the intense fear of allowing themselves to experience joy. Walking away is understandable.
