Spoiler alert: I have no idea how to parent a perfectionist. I’m figuring it out though, however slowly. Maybe you and I can compare notes if you’ve got a perfectionist too.
My 10-year-old daughter Lily doesn’t like to make mistakes. She bristles anytime we correct her. Her feelings are easily hurt. This is what my grandparents would call “ payin’ for my raisin’ ” because I’m pretty sure I was the same at her age. I don’t recall being quite as sensitive as Lily is but I remember well my daddy telling me more than once that I shouldn’t wear my heart on my sleeve.
For all the frustration I feel about Lily’s pursuit of perfection, there is a perk. Her teachers describe her as a dream student. She is obedient and helpful. She is smart. Very smart. Words come especially easy to her.
When Lily was in the 2nd grade she read the Harry Potter book series – all seven of them! – in only six months. In the 3rd grade she participated in the school Spelling Bee and won, out-spelling a 5th grader for the title and trophy. She finished runner-up in the countywide competition that year, vying against students twice her age. In 4th grade Lily excelled again and won the school Spelling Bee for the second year in a row.
A delicate tension developed in our home when Lily advanced to the Spelling Bee finals in 5th grade. I tempered my confidence that she was capable of winning a third time with reassurance that it would be OK if she lost.
Lily prepared for the Bee with the same determination she had shown the previous two years. We began practicing the 450 likely words as soon as she brought the list home. She studied for hours. Days. We worked our system. As usual, we highlighted in pink the words she knew, placed a dot beside the ones she spelled correctly but tentatively, and penciled a check mark next to the ones she didn’t know.
When she got down to the last 30 or so words to learn, she copied them onto index cards and practiced. She wrote them this year while I was at work and as soon as I got home we honed in on her stack.
The day of the Bee Lily was doing so well. Jeff and I watched online from home because COVID concerns prevented parents from attending in person. Lily had advanced to the top 4 when she was called on to spell the word “emitting.” She had practiced this word! It was an index card! I held my breath as she spelled: “e-m-m-i-t-t-i-n-g.”
I cheered! But the moderator said, “No.”
Shocked, I frantically pulled the practice sheet from the opposite end of our kitchen table. Jeff grabbed the index cards Lily had written to study. We compared the two and realized the worst: Lily had copied the word incorrectly on her index card. She had studied the wrong spelling.
I watched, helpless, as Lily sat down confused and crushed. I grabbed my phone to text one of her teachers who I knew was watching at school. I hoped she could intercept Lily and explain what had happened. A few moments later my phone rang. Her teacher asked if I could come to the school.
Lily was sitting in the lobby when I arrived, holding a cupcake, a participation certificate and (barely) her tears. When she saw me she couldn’t keep them any longer. The principal kindly offered us the privacy of an empty conference room. Lily was inconsolable.
I was marginally better but only because I knew something she didn’t.
About two weeks before the Spelling Bee, I became acutely aware of Lily’s persistence for perfection. Realizing her habit of being hard on herself, I began to pray, “God, teach her to give herself grace.” I knew beyond any doubt this Spelling Bee loss was an answer to that prayer. How could it not be? Of all the words she practiced – and she practiced ALL of them – she was called on to spell the one word she had written down wrong.
I may never recover.
Lily wanted to win so badly. I wanted it for her. That’s why I believe God is going to use this experience in a truly formative way in Lily’s life. It will shape her in ways we can’t yet see, and I know one day she will look back on it as a defining moment of her character and grit.
Most days I still don’t know exactly how to parent my perfectionist. But our Spelling Bee disappointment has taught me two ways we can honor the way God knit together our “perfect” children while leading them to live gracefully with their flaws.
1) Be patient. My instinct when Lily was criticizing herself after the Spelling Bee was to interrupt her with promises that her negative thoughts were not true. But in her mind at that moment, those things were true. I would have wasted time and breath trying to convince her otherwise.
When our children feel like they are not good enough the better thing we can do is listen and empathize. This is what our conversation sounded like in the school conference room:
Lily: I always double check everything!
Me: I know you do. You try really hard to get things right.
Lily: Everyone thought I was going to win!
Me: I know it feels that way. You are a great speller!
Lily: I’m a failure!
Me: It’s hard to lose. You didn’t win today but you are not a failure.
I tell my girls “It’s OK to feel however you feel. It’s not always OK to act on those feelings.” We can validate our child’s emotions then teach them how to work through their feelings in a healthy way.
2) Pray. Clearly, prayer works. I believe with my full being that Lily’s Spelling Bee loss was an answer to my prayer. It was an opportunity to give herself grace and to be proud of herself in spite of losing.
Would I have preferred God not answer my prayer on such a grand stage? Of course. But where it happened was also a gift. Lily learned this hard lesson in a soft place, among people who know her, love her and care for her with compassion.
Prayer is not a one-and-done solution. Our perfectionists are works in progress, even if they don’t want to admit it. I will continue praying that Lily will give herself grace and that I will model that maturity for her.
It’s a special thing to watch your child step into their giftedness and see their confidence soar. Lily’s Spelling Bee successes gave her the courage to pursue other hard things. She earned a spot on the Scholars Bowl team in 4th and 5th grades and was named a news anchor for her student newscast in 5th grade.
On the way home from Scholars Bowl practice last Monday Lily said, “Mrs. McConnell told us our team should get all the spelling questions right because we have Ava who won the Spelling Bee this year and Paxton who was runner-up and I was the winner for two years in a row.” I’m so proud she can appreciate accomplishments she has earned and celebrate her friends’ triumphs without any prompting from me. (Even as I consoled Lily after the Spelling Bee she smiled through her tears when I told her Ava had won. “She’s my friend,” she said.)
There are three things I say to my girls almost every day. One of them is “I’m proud of you.” Sometimes I follow that assurance by asking them, “Why do you think I’m proud of you?” They’ve learned my answer is always the same: “Because you’re mine.” They need to know they are enough regardless of accolades or achievement.
I want Lily to live her life trying. I don’t want her to spend her life striving. The difference can be a fine line. With patience and prayer, my little perfectionist and I will walk that line together.
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’”
(2 Corinthians 12:9)