Chapter 1:
Being an OCD neat-freak is a love/hate kind of thing, and I’ll be the first to admit that. Things always have to be in place, homework always has to be done, bedrooms always have to be spotless, and mediocre grades are not an option. Life of a perfectionist is exhausting, and we are usually made fun of. I am (occasionally) envious of people who are laid back and don’t care about anything—that must be real chill. But, those people are a different breed than us “perfectionist” girls, and it’s impossible to ever be calm when there’s so much to conquer. Laugh all you want, but we usually have our lives in order…one would argue a little too much, we would argue nothing is ever enough. If you want to be more like an OCD girl, here’s our bible:
(1:1) A planner is a necessity, not an option.
It’s usually color coordinated, completely filled, and tests are written out on day one we get a syllabus. Our year is basically already planned out—which makes us stressed but determined to set high goals for ourselves. OCD girls don’t understand how people even survive without one. If we were stuck on a deserted island, we would bring our planners so we would know what to do next.
(1:2) To-do lists, to-buy lists, to-clean lists…
The lists go on forever. Checking tasks off our to-do lists brings a sense of relief and we can breathe for a second, until we make another one and it continues… The bottom line is, we make to-do lists for the sake of crossing things out. Pads of paper and sticky notes are part of our survival kit.
(1:3) Our bed must be made.
When we wake up in the morning, the first thing we do is make our beds. It just has to be done, our mornings wouldn’t feel complete and the thought of coming home to an unmade bed would eat away at our minds. Making our bed in the morning officially means the day has begun and it’s time to get going!
(1:4) OCD girls productively procrastinate.
If and when we procrastinate at all, it’s usually spent being productive and proactive. We clean our already-cleaned rooms, write, read, or do other useful homework and tasks that don’t take priority over what we are procrastinating for. So, is it really considered procrastinating at all…?
(1:5) Anxiety is a perfectionist’s best friend.
Anything out of place gives us anxiety. Our closets are coordinated a certain way (either by color, by season, by style, or all of the above), and if anyone messes with it—they’ll have hell to pay. Messes freak us out, and tests really push us over the edge. We’ll overthink and dwell over a test we’ve spent days studying for! Anxiety really is our BFF, it’s unavoidable and we’ve accepted this aspect of OCD life.
(1:6) Responsibility is in our blood.
We are the “mommies” of our friend groups and we are always looking out for other people. We can’t stand when our friend’s rooms are messy, we make sure everyone is always safe, and we are overprotective and extremely responsible. OCD girls plan ahead and expect the unexpected in all situations. Umbrella? Check. Perfume? Check. Tide-to-go, tampons, pens, sewing kit, notebook, and a partridge in a pear tree? Check.
(1:7) Perfectionists pay very close attention to detail.
Maybe too close. If our nail polish is chipped, they all have to come off. Our class notes have to look neat, and it sends chills up our spines if outfits don’t match to a T. Tops have to match bottoms and accessories and shoes have to match all—color coordination is a biggie. Things that are uneven, crooked, odd numbered, or grammatically incorrect don’t sit well with us. Sorry, not sorry.
(1:8) OCD girls need free-spirited friends.
Sometimes, obsessively compulsive girls just need to relax and be pushed out of their comfort zones. I’m one of those girls. Free-spirited, easy going friends are the best for us because they teach us how to have fun, while we teach them how to be more driven. It balances out.
Being a perfectionist isn’t even about trying to be perfect; it’s more about being in a competition with ourselves and trying to be the best we can be. I guess we are all a little bit of Tyra Banks and trust me, I feel ya, Tyra. I feel ya.
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