Back in March, Keira was promoted a level in her gymnastics class; a class I’d secretly been hoping she’d be put into because it was in the ‘Big Person’ gym, seemed all fancy-like, and I guess I saw an excuse for me to put on my “WARNING: EXTREMELY BRAGGARTY PARENT” bumper stick on the back of the car.
Which, uh, I probably don’t even need because if you haven’t noticed, this is a ‘mummy blog’ and this the kind of stuff I’m supposed to be talking about, isn’t it?
(I’m really not sure anymore – you tell me.)
Anyway, little did I realise what kind of world both my daughter and I would be initiated into.
We walked into the High Performance Centre and already there – and had been for several hours – were older girls doing tricky layouts on the floor or the trampoline, doing deep stretches our cat would even marvel to behold.
Keira’s new coach walked up to us and said, “Hello! Welcome. This is a different kind of class than the kind you’re coming from. There will be no fluffy business here.”
I interpreted this to mean, “We play serious. Soon we’ll be able to tell you whether you’re going to be up to chop or not.”
Now, I like her new coach. She is nice, but firm. She pushes the kids, but never too far. Still, there is a competitive edge in the air whenever I step into the place that I still haven’t decided if I like or not. For example, sometimes all the kids are lined up on the bottom rung of the uneven bars and told to hold on. “It’s a competition! See who can hold on the longest!”
Passion. Drive. Grit. Strength.
These are qualities she’s learning and I can see Keira gets a little nervous and then I worry that maybe we’ve crossed a line from an activity being simply pleasurable to something more; something that, at some point, a Commitment to which will have to be made.
So I guess none of you will be surprised when I say these past two weeks Keira has dragged her heels all the way to class, asking not to go, although when she gets there she does fine. She finally told me the other day what the matter was: “It’s because I can’t do a front support bounce on the trampoline properly yet.”
When I told this to her coach, her coach laughed. “Goodness! I only just showed you that move. I have girls who still haven’t perfected it after almost a year.” She patted Keira on the back. “You’ll be fine.”
******
Eleven years ago I sat before the single sympathetic GP I ever had relating to my eating disorder. I went because, yet again, my heart was causing me pain and I was begging for an ECG to please, please check if anything was wrong.
(An ECG I didn’t get – incidentally – for another two years)
She was young and this was very possibly her first placement in a practice. She smiled at me with true compassion and asked, “Are you a perfectionist?”
Taken aback, I laughed and said, “Well yes, actually, I am.”
She nodded. “It is common for people with this kind of personality to develop eating disorders. Perfectionists need to have it done their way, and their way only, in preferably the quickest possible time.”
******
Back at the gym, it was at this point when I began explaining to the coach, “You see! There was the problem. Now I understand she can be like that if she doesn’t master something right away, she gets frustrated. She’s quite the perfectionist…”
As the words spilled from my mouth, the doctor’s visit replayed in my head in one of the most unsettling cases of déjà vu I’ve ever had in my life. I put my hand to my chest to feel it beating and wanted to fall to the floor, to cry.
From fear.
I hope I can mother her right, mother her wise, through the years to come - through the tweens and the teens, through mixed media messages she’s exposed to already without my knowing.
Because I don’t want her fighting the same battles I did.
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
Gosh it seems so many of us suffer this pesky trait called perfectionism! My eldest suffers it just as I do, and I don’t know that there is a darned thing I can do about it but support him on his journey.
I also suffered terrible anxiety in my 20s and had those debilitating chest pains, crazy heart beats and at times agoraphobia.
I can happily say though that in my 30s now and with three kids and a husband and a rambling old house to care for I’ve let a LOT of my perfectionism go. Not all of it, but a lot of it.
(BTW I obviously fear the very things you do for your child. My eldest will start school next year and I am so GLAD that their school tells me that it is NON competitive environment. The stickers and wall charts for each preppie extolling their individual virtues at another school I visited was enough to put me off that one!)
Gosh, that last bit gave me more than a little lump in my throat. Every now and then one of my girls displays one of my less admirable traits (and I’m not suggesting perfectionism isn’t admirable!) and I get a feeling in my chest, like, I hope she doesn’t struggle with this like I have. I make a very conscious, daily effort to try to remind my kids not to think about things or react to things the way their slightly-unhinged-sometimes mother does (I tend to over-react, then dwell, then stew…). I hope it’s helping.
Wow, this kind of makes me glad I have 2 boys who will hopefully take after their father and won’t be anxious and have all those insecurities us females often have. Although L1 is known for being pretty quiet and lets other kids take toys off him at daycare so I’m dreading “big school” and the bullying issue
Having palpitations here myself I have to confess… talking to the child psych had me having flash backs to my childhood and wondering if I am parenting my fears/problems onto my kids…
ack… mum worry and mum guilt suck….
(((hugs))) Karen.
You can only love her and guide her through the toughest of problems in the best way any mother can.
Keira is lucky to have you as a mother. Because of your history and experiences, you are able to look out for her on a different level to most parents who haven’t had those experiences, as horrible as those experiences might have been. I am a perfectionist, I struggle with OCD on a daily basis, and I also have a history similar to yours ED-wise. When I was younger I didn’t want to procreate in fear of passing on my not-so-fabulous traits! But now I realise it’s not just about traits, it’s about how you bring up your children, how you shape them and guide them that counts.
Keira has a loving home, a supportive family and obviously wants to do her best, and those are all wonderful things. Don’t let yourself stress out about it, as easy as it is to say that. *hug*
I understand why you’re freaking out, but as Katie says, you’ve got a heads up on one of the possible pitfalls of this particular trait, and you will make sure that one doesn’t happen to her.
Keep up the communication with her, do a spot of troubleshooting here and there and things will work out fine, just like in the example you gave!
If it’s any consolation, too, these days EDs are covered in PDHPE type subjects at school, and a bright spark like Keira will well and truly take it all on board. Exhibit A: I can’t even caution my eldest against eating too much rubbish, etc (especially with the body type genes she is looking to have inherited from her mother) because she throws back a “do you want me to get an eating disorder?” in my face!!
Biggest hugs.
I look at my girls and their behaviours and I wonder and worry. I don’t want them to be like me. I don’t want them to have the same hang ups.
I want to parent them in a way where they become confident, beautiful women.
I think we all worry about these things.
I think you’ll do just fine because you’ve been there yourself.
Unfortunately, my daughter inherited a little too much of my imperfectionist gene – we need to look at splicing, don’t we?
You have knowledge, knowledge is power. Good luck on your journey.
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