Drafts on Perfectionism

The idea of something new is much less intimidating than actually doing something new. I dreamed of starting this website for years. I wanted a place of my own to share what I love: God, people, writing and coffee. The idea of it was romantic and beautiful; it looked perfect and I wrote perfect and people loved to visit and leave inspiring comments on the art of writing. Once I actually started to work on this site it was, well, in a word: messy! It felt overwhelming like a cluttered desk with too many papers that ended up in random stacks.

I found myself obsessing over every little piece and asking far too many questions than one should ask of a website. Is that font right, does it portray me and everything I'm trying to say? What about the photos – is the angle right, the mood? Should my color palette be more cool-toned or warm-toned? Is this sight effortless and breezy or warm and inviting? I want it to be both, but what tones achieve that? I have all these aspirations. I should have video and an interactive page; a spot to talk about my faith which is real and meaningful and a place to explore fashion and design, and what about holistic living? I love that topic. The pressure mounted. I needed this site to show all my facets, each bend in the prism that shapes me and serves to catch the light. And then what about the hard stuff? Depression and loss, and emotions that overflow and frustrate; the ones that so often cloud my vision. I need to include it all, right? My website should be a complete picture.

Demitasse Drafts (is that a good name? who can spell dem∙i∙tasse?) was so close to launch. My friend and helper on this project, Cordelia, kept telling me to just publish and figure it out as I went along. I would set short goals - in 2 weeks I'll go live, but then I would come up with fifty reasons why I wasn't ready. Should I edit that post one more time, or was that photo just right? It was the same idea of not having friends over because your house is too messy. They come over to hang out with you. Not to white glove your bookshelf; which, by the way, mine would never pass. Would visitors come to my site to read my words, use one of my writing prompts and basically hang out with my writing for a bit? Would they care that perhaps I used a comma wrong (which is highly subjective, if you ask me) or used the wrong version of affect/effect?

Last week while waiting for barre class to start, I forced Cordelia into yet another discussion of "When-would-my-site-be-ready?" As I tried to pull her into a conversation of website cohesion, she stopped me with a story. She had recently taken a new job and was working on their social media account. Knowing Cordelia, I can only imagine how she beautifully strung the photos, their tones in harmony, all conveying a perfect message, professional and soulful, on point. But to her surprise her new boss hated it! Well, he didn't hate it, but he didn't want his company tied to the image of the perfection it portrayed. He felt that it made people feel like if they didn't have a certain style or look, it would discourage them from joining. It is a moving sentiment that not only touched me, but was that proverbial slap in the face, I needed. The whole premise of my site is writing drafts. Hello?! Drafts! As I wrote about them in my first post they are, by their very nature, messy, full of errant commas and underdeveloped thoughts. The point is to just write. How quickly I got lost in the need for perfectionism. I wanted the world to see me as elegant and well-planned, everything perfectly blending and flowing as if done by a team of professionals.

So bear with me as I work on my imperfect site. It will be a mix of writing, faith, style, mothering and entrepreneuring (yup, not a real word). But not just the good things, also the messy, like my images don't flow and I'm not afraid of a run-on sentence. I want all to feel included wherever you are in your writing journey- just putting pen to paper or a seasoned author perhaps. Writing for love or for profit (I do both). It’s not perfect, but the beauty is often in the flaws. Invariably, I'm drawn to weathered things because they have a history, a story and character.

For the most part, my desk has stayed cluttered, I have just moved aside the coffee-stained cups, stacked the half-filled journals and shoved the piles of papers and broken pencils to one corner, near the printer that’s been out of ink for at least three months, to find working space. Here is that run-on sentence I promised.

So this is my site … flaws in all.

Write about perfectionism - here are some ideas (but they aren't perfect):

Journal about how you deal with perfectionism; has it stopped you from pursing a dream like starting your own business or maybe just inviting your neighbor over for coffee.

Is it a struggle for you or do you embrace the messiness that makes you—you?

Perhaps tell a story about a time you tried to be perfect and it failed?

Share your work here