What Is Perfectionism?

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People with obsessive-compulsive personalities tend to demand clarity and coherence to manage their moods.

Coherence meaningfully supports mental health, but learning to tolerate ambiguity may be just as important.

Disavowing the belief that one's life has some anticipated, grand narrative opens up new possibilities.

We chalk up idealism to youth, but it’s fair to say that most of us, even if we consider ourselves to be adults, struggle with tolerating uncertainty. Personally, my obsessive-compulsive mind detests it. I want my life to appear as a clear narrative, where everything I do and everything that happens to me is part of some grander play, with me at its center, of course. A recent meta-analysis of meaning and depression (Ouyang et al. 2026) concluded that coherence—the ability to make sense of one’s experiences and fit them neatly into a worldview—had the strongest negative correlation with depression, as opposed to other forms of meaning.

While this is a hopeful perspective, it hides the reality of rigidity. The caveat is that coherence must be possible for it to matter. So, what happens if it isn’t? What if the data don’t fit one’s worldview or challenge it altogether? Arguably, from the obsessive-compulsive perspective, where coherence is a necessity, its lack can and likely will be destabilizing. In treatment, a patient may tell us they wish someone else could make a meaningful life choice for them, especially a more controversial one. For example, if an individual was dissuaded by their parents from making an unconventional career decision, like, let’s say, pursuing a career in stand-up comedy, they may wish their parents had pushed them into comedy. This may feel counterintuitive. Wouldn’t they just want their parents to merely support them instead?

If the individual has obsessive-compulsive tendencies, they may harbor the same doubts about their passion, albeit to a lesser degree than their parents, who may completely disqualify it. So, rather than freedom, these individuals tend to wish their parents did what was best for them—to take this choice of whether to embrace what they really wanted to love and make it for them. (Arguably, perfectionism is another way to outsource decision-making, as you’re following some prescribed, but internal, guide, often not even being able to articulate why.) They wanted their parents to say, “This is so clearly the right choice for you, and since you’re too scared to make it, we’ll do it for you.” Thus, the universe makes sense. It feels as though some force is working to make their life better, pushing them over the edge when needed. The problem, however, becomes evident when you start to consider the counterfactual world. What would it have looked like if your parents, to express their devotion to you and show the world how much they love you, made you drop out of college, or forgo it, to pursue comedy?

Rigidity—black-and-white thinking—may inform the belief that parents have to always be supportive, even forceful in their support, to show that they care. This is accompanied by the belief that they have to possess moral clarity, especially when their child can’t. So, the obsessive child struggling with deciding on a career yearns for the universe to present itself in the form of a lifelong authority figure, eternally guiding them, both directly and indirectly. They demand clarity from the ones who gave them life and from life itself. Some even resent their parents for being spineless; in this case, the individual may believe, “They should have pushed me because it was so obvious how much I wanted it.”

Was it? Were you just scared? Was comedy your one, true purpose? In our counterfactual world, again, if we pursue this line of thinking, we may discover that comedy makes us unhappy, maybe because it can’t financially sustain us, or maybe because we learn that we don’t even have much of a drive for it. (We may even blame our parents when, in reality, we struggle to love much of anything.) In turn, if our parents are certain that we’re just afraid, they may scold us for wishing to divert from our dream. As a result, we may end up pursuing a lost cause out of fear of disappointing them.

Certainty eliminates the possibility of experimentation and, as importantly, the possibility of being wrong. While the individual believes, in this example, that their parents were clear but wrong, they might instead prefer parents who are better able to tolerate ambiguity, rather than those with an agreeable sort of moral certitude. What if they admitted they didn’t know what would make you happy because they often struggle to answer the question for themselves? What if their advice was tempered with the wisdom of each of us needing to find our own way? Could we survive if life weren’t so coherent and if we weren’t its main characters? What if authentic pride stems from an increased ability to handle complexity?

Maybe instead of picking a path for you, your parents could have helped you make choices, learn from them, admit mistakes, diverge from your course, and deal with the consequential pain? What if they taught you that certitude, while helpful in managing your moods, wasn’t a gift but achieved only through the labor of meaningful choices and equally meaningful mistakes? What if they also taught you that even when attained, it can still easily vanish? What if real support isn’t supporting any specific choice but supporting you on your journey and exploring with you? What if we should take coherence less seriously?

What Is Perfectionism?

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While again beneficial, coherence precludes discovery. We can instead choose to value the truth and our ability to hold it, at least more so than coherence. This means allowing our lives to unfold, and it means having the courage to no longer be heroes. What if, in the above example, the individual chooses to become a producer or even just host a comedy podcast as a hobby? What if all of their tribulations don’t lead to some grand finale? Can life still feel meaningful if it’s underwhelming? Can we decide to just love to learn, for its own sake? And can we continue to hold onto hope, knowing that we’re equipped to handle whatever will come, even if, ultimately, we can’t make sense of it?

Wu-han Ouyang, Xin-qiang Wang, Jia-yi Cai, Shu-ya Pan, Jing-yi Li. A three-level meta-analysis of the relationship between meaning in life and depression, Journal of Affective Disorders, Volume 398, 2026, 121045, ISSN 0165-0327, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2025.121045.(https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0165032725024875)

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