The Perfectionism Experiment Begins
I noticed folks constantly calling Virgo women “control freaks” or “impossible perfectionists.” Felt kinda unfair. So, last Tuesday, I decided to track my own damn behavior for a solid week. Wanted to see if the stereotype held water, or if I was just a basic Virgo trying to adult.
Getting Into The Thick Of It
Started simple Monday morning. Grabbed my cheap notebook – the one I don’t care if coffee stains ruin. Made two columns: “Obsession With Order” and “Criticizing Stuff (Including Myself).” My rules? Every single time I did something fitting those boxes, I scribbled it down. Brutal honesty only.
First shock came fast. Before 10 AM:
- Straightened the crooked picture frame in the hallway. Twice. Couldn’t walk past it.
- Re-arranged grocery list items THREE times because the order “felt wrong” for aisle navigation.
- Hissed “Are you serious?” under my breath when my partner loaded the dishwasher “wrong.” Didn’t even tell them. Just silently re-did it. Felt petty instantly.
Felt kinda ridiculous. Like, who cares about the grocery list flow that much? Apparently, I do.
The Midweek Reality Check
By Wednesday, the notebook looked messy – which ironically stressed me out. Observed a pattern:
- Planning gone wild: Spent 45 minutes planning a 15-minute errand route “for max efficiency.” Burnt more time planning than doing.
- Hyper self-critique: Wrote “awkward phrasing?” next to half my sent texts. Deleted and re-typed constantly.
- Detail demon: Pointed out a tiny typo in a friend’s casual meme text. Yeah, got eye-rolled. Hard.
Started feeling tense. Carried that knot in my shoulders. Couldn’t relax knowing that book was filling up with my own nitpicky habits.
The Low Point & The Shifting View
Thursday hit different. Got stuck at the bakery. Wanted one specific croissant – the least lopsided one. Kept waiting as people grabbed others. Ended up missing the perfect one and being late. Stood there fuming… mostly at myself.
That evening, opened the notebook. Stared at the chaos. Saw the pile of small stresses adding up. The frustration wasn’t usually aimed outward – it was this constant, low-grade dissatisfaction buzzing in my own head.
What Actually Clicked
Finished the week on Sunday. Didn’t magically transform. But here’s what stuck out:
- It’s less about controlling others, more about controlling the chaos in my own head. Order outside makes the inside quieter.
- The standards? Way higher for myself. Noticed I wrote way more critiques about my own stuff than anyone else’s.
- It’s exhausting. Seriously. Noticed how drained I felt just from noticing every little flaw.
Biggest surprise? Saw my partner’s messy desk Friday afternoon. Felt the usual urge to neaten it. But instead… took a breath. Let it be. That tiny moment felt like climbing Everest. Didn’t last though – straightened it Saturday morning. Baby steps, okay?
The Takeaway Isn’t What I Expected
Am I a perfectionist? Hell yes. But tracking it showed me it’s less about demanding flawlessness from the world, and more about this internal pressure cooker. It’s tiring. Sometimes it wastes my time over trivial junk. But understanding why the crooked frame bugged me? Noticed that looking around my organized space genuinely makes me take a deeper, calmer breath. That small peace matters. Maybe the goal isn’t fixing it, just knowing it. And maybe, sometimes, buying the slightly bent croissant.
