Maria Mateescu • Personal Log

I Learned Not to Trust Perfection

One of the hardest lessons I've ever had to learn is "Do not trust perfection". As a self-recognised and diagnosed perfectionist that is a dichotomy I have to live with every day. Not only that, but I am inherently drawn to perfection as both a motivator and as what I find attractive in people. But, experience has taught me that seeing something as perfect just blinds us to the red flags. If a job in interviews seems perfect, they are either completely disconnected from the job or they are lying. If an individual seems perfect, what am I ignoring about them, and what do they want me to ignore?

Even the etymology of the word "perfect" tells us how it is impossible. Perfect comes from complete. For something to be complete, it needs to have ended and be finite. But life, while it does have its eventual end, goes on.

There are no exceptions

Perfection, even in the concept of god, always falls apart under scrutiny. If they claim to be perfect, then they are not to be trusted. I bet you didn't expect this post to be on comparative religions(or as I prefer to call them, mythologies), based on the title, but here we are.

If something is perfect(a perfect law, a perfect god, a perfect belief), we impose a certain immutability to it. And if a belief system defines perfection as immutability, as they often do, then any evolution is imperfection, therefore unacceptable. As this fast-paced technological evolution has shown, anything that doesn’t evolve becomes obsolete. I am sometimes amused by the sheer amount of workarounds Orthodox Jews have found in modern days around the Sabbath. They say that their ability to find ways to work with the rules, regardless how strange, is why god's plan is still perfect... sure... Problems do lead to ingenuity. But even so... the one thing I learned with age was that perfection doesn't matter, it's impossible anyway. Growth does. The mistakes of the past do not define you unless you let them, so grow from them instead. Believing that perfection is possible or that someone or something has achieved it, just prevents growth from happening, and that is just sad.

The one constant in life is change, and while things may have been perfect at a time. Even gods, if they fail to evolve, they stop being relevant, and they are no longer perfect. But if they keep changing, surely they can't have been perfect. And they weren't. Nothing is. Because unless time itself stopped, as the Auditors tried in The Thief of Time by Terry Pratchett, perfection would not be achievable.

Seeing mistakes where there are none, and blinding ourselves to mistakes

Being led to believe that perfection is real, and worse achievable, can get us stuck, or blaming ourselves unproductively, infinitely. We could chastise ourselves for a choice we made in the past, even if it was the best we could have known at the time. We may fail to make any decision because it won't be perfect. Or we may continue onto a path that doesn't serve anyone, just because at one time it seemed like the best decision. In my coaching work, I often see perfectionism disguised as indecision, burnout, or endless self-editing. The client says, "I need to make the right decision" but behind that is often fear... of being seen... of being judged... of getting it wrong.

I love how visible this is in contemporary mythologies. Take Islam and Judaism, for example. In both, pork is a no-go. If we do some research into why, we may notice a few things. Both Islam and Judaism are predominant in the Middle East, a region that is HOT, very HOT. Pork is more prone to dangerous spoilage in hot climates and can be harder to detect when it's gone bad, making it risky to eat without refrigeration. So, in ancient Middle Eastern societies—where both Islam and Judaism originated—it made sense to ban pork. At the time, the rule was practical. Now, in the age of refrigeration? Less so. But, religion, unlike the world around it, or maybe exactly like the world around it, often resists change.

So, here's what comes up a lot in my coaching. There is no right decision. The best we can hope for is the right decision at the time, with the information and abilities we had at that point.

Imperfection in religion

I have a strong fascination with polytheistic mythologies, in particular Greek Mythologies. In Greek mythology0, the gods are not only imperfect, but their flaws are extraordinary. Zeus isn’t just unfaithful; he’s a walking HR violation. Hera doesn’t just get jealous; she launches vendettas. Dionysus doesn’t just party; he turns entire cities into wild orgies of destruction. They don’t do anything halfway. The gods are proud, their flaws leading to predicaments in their own myths as well as affecting the human world. In other words, they are a hyperbolic representation of the human condition.

In their variety, these gods represent faults, as well as strengths. And having these representations, worship becomes more of a question of aligning one's practices with one's values. Spend most of your time around machines, like Hephaestus, and you may end up just a tad bit more socially awkward, just like the god. Focus on building a warm home like Hestia, and there may not be as much time for grand adventures or major scientific discoveries. There is no wrong answer.

The comfort of perfection

Monotheism today isn’t just about faith—it’s about power. The scriptures haven’t changed in thousands of years, but the way people enforce them has. They cherry-pick rules, not because they make sense, but because they give them control. The perfect god justifies their superiority, their judgment, their punishments. And, in doing so, they expose the biggest flaw of them all: the belief that perfection ever existed in the first place. And the irony is they do not see it.

But, there is a certain comfort in believing that by following a set of rules one will reach perfection and have a good life. It required no introspection, and no questioning. There is a promise that everything will work out. And in a world that is so unpredictable and at times so unfair, how can we deny the appeal of such a promise?

I owe this outlook to my grandfather, in what remains likely the most influential conversation of my entire life. Story time! I was around 9 years old, my school forced us to fast for an entire day in order to take part in a mandatory confessional and communion. My grandfather was furious. That afternoon, he sat me down in the kitchen and, for hours, we talked. About religion. About its origins. About why people turn to it, not just culturally, but psychologically. At no point did he say that there is a right answer for religion for everyone, but that there is one for every individual.

If you are someone who can believe, there is a comfort in that belief that is genuinely irreplaceable, if you truly believe. If there is a right answer, then it is to take a deep look at ourselves, find our values, and align ourselves to them1. He spoke to me like an adult, and I will always cherish that memory.

That conversation taught me four things that have stayed with me for life:

  1. Don’t judge people for needing religion. Just because I don’t need faith, doesn’t mean others don’t.
  2. Question the rules you’re told to follow. If a rule exists, it had a purpose at some point. But that purpose may no longer apply. That rule may have been misguided in the first place.
  3. Apply your own judgment to something. Just because something is legal, it doesn't make it right.
  4. Religion and spirituality are not the same thing. My grandfather avoided church like the plague, but on his deathbed, he called for a priest. My grandmother, on the other hand, who followed every ritual to the letter, wanted nothing to do with the church in the end. Belief is personal. Faith is personal. But religion...especially when it’s a business2, often gets in the way of that.

That conversation shaped my entire approach to critical thinking. It taught me that the real danger isn’t faith--it’s blind faith. The refusal to question, to adapt, to recognise when an idea that once made sense no longer serves the people who follow it... that is blind faith. It taught me open-mindedness and to respect people's choices and beliefs, even if they didn't align with mine. And he tried to teach me boundaries, a lesson I am still learning over 20 years later, where I do not need to comply with the rules of others just because they want me to.

Walking away from perfection

Years later, I am still learning from that conversation, even if my grandfather is no longer around. Thinking that perfection is achievable is just another stick I used to beat myself up with. I fell for my ex because I thought he was perfect, and I think he believed himself to be too. He definitely thought his opinions were. That only blinded me to the many gargantuan red flags. And that pattern followed me in my professional life for a while too.

When you stop expecting perfection, you start seeing the imperfections. Sometimes they are imperfections that people try to hide, and those are the ones to be weary of. Sometimes they are imperfections people have accepted, and those can be some of the most beautiful things about a person.

Perfection will just get us stuck, as it demands completion, but life goes on, and everything changes. So do we.

Interested in learning more? Feel free to explore my coaching here and book a free intro call to discuss how I can help you.


0 This is not limited to Greek mythology. This is in fact fairly common in Egyptian, Roman, and Norse mythologies, with which I am familiar with, and it appears to be the case with Aztec mythology as well. I would love to hear more about other mythologies I am not as familiar with.

1 Which interestingly, I think this aligns well with the teachings of the Dalai Lama. I believe he talks about this in his book Beyond Religion, though it may be in another book of his I read, but he actively discourages people from becoming Buddhists later in life. He believes that belief would not truly be there. At the same time, aligning themselves to Buddhist values and ideals is something he respects and encourages, if they are right to the individual.

2 And the Orthodox church in Romania is most certainly run like one, a successful one at that, and they don't even need to pay taxes.

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