‘I’ll be first!’
When perfectionism speaks in the voice of fear, not the podium
Why children with PDA choose perfection as a form of control – and how to support them
me
You know, everyone makes mistakes. That's how we learn. (I show her my box of failed projects.) Look, this didn't work. And this didn't work. And that didn't work either. And this? This worked on the 5th try. More things failed for me than worked. That's normal. At the beginning, almost nothing works right away. That's how it is for everyone.
daughter
I'll be first. Mine will work the first time.
And that stopped me. I started wondering… where did that response come from? Where did that certainty come from? And could it be connected to the fact that in daily life she refuses 90% of instructions, requests, or suggestions – regardless of form, tone, or delivery method (I’ve tested most possibilities).
It wasn’t pride. It wasn’t the need to be the best – we’ve already worked through that.
It was the need for safety.
Because if she does something perfectly… no one will criticize her… no one will shame her… no one will hurt her.
And yet no one around her does that. Not at home, not in activities. So what is she facing?
Ah, maybe…
Perfection = control.
If I can’t control whether I have to do something, then at least I can try to control how well I do it.
- Perfection is a shield against fear.
- It is a path toward predictability, and therefore toward safety.
- It is a way of creating inner calm.
And masking: “I’ll be competent, polite, perfect, so no one sees that I’m afraid.”
Ah, and sometimes… it is also an echo of shame and uncertainty: the belief that I am only good if I do everything flawlessly.
Okay, now that I know – what can I do?
Because simply saying “mistakes are okay” is both too little and ineffective.
I can name it
“I know your brain wants control. Perfection is the way you try to feel safe. That makes sense.”
Naming it may reduce shame. It shows: “Your reactions are logical. And you are not alone in this.”
(Logic, the premium currency.)
I can redefine “mistakes”
Instead of: “Everyone makes mistakes.” Try: “Mistakes help us find our own way of doing things.”
For the need for autonomy, redefine a mistake not as failure, but as a clue leading toward something personal, toward one’s own path.
(A compass only works if she’s the one holding it.)
I can model imperfection
Not pretend I always know. Show my own box of failures. And not tell that story with shame, but with curiosity. Because then maybe my daughter will see that imperfection does not take away value.
(A box of failures = a treasury of courage💛)
And so I stay with that for today. Without a perfect solution. But with direction.
And I repeat, quietly but firmly:
Find your own way.
Make mistakes.
The best lessons come from them.
Don’t rush – you’re learning how to live in your own way.
The lesson I took from this short conversation
Resistance to external demands does not always mean open refusal. Sometimes it takes a subtler form: perfectionistic action, but only when the child decides they have full control and a guarantee that they will do something perfectly. If that certainty is missing, they may not begin at all.
Perfection becomes a form of control – a way of preserving agency in situations experienced as imposed.