Launch is a Dress Rehearsal
A quick note: this essay has serendipitously become a part-two to my last post Work Hard. Rest Harder. Thematically they both deal with perfectionism, work ethic, ballet culture, and the founder’s internal landscape. While I didn’t set out to write a series, it actually feels quite natural and fitting, with the first focusing more on the practical response to perfectionism and this piece going deeper into the origin of perfectionism. So, let’s dive in…
Recovering perfectionist? Hi, yes, me too. Welcome, you’re in the right place. I’ll go first. Hi, my name is Micki and I’m a recovering perfectionist.
Before you laugh, or think I’m making fun, please know I’m dead serious. Socially, we talk about perfectionism with much more ease and comfort than many other ailments to our society but perfectionism can truly be a harmful force in one’s life. Even if purely a silent battle within one’s mind and their own expectations of how they show up in the world.
In ballet training (or any training culture that chases perfection, whether that’s elite sports, classical music, or gymnastics), you perform the same steps multiple times a class, multiple classes a day, all in service of chasing perfection. It’s a relentless pursuit, but it’s not futile. For there are the moments in class, in rehearsal, and on stage where everything aligns and for a few moments to a few hours, you exist in a reality of perfection: staying pulled up on your leg long enough for an additional rotation in a turn or a few more seconds holding a balance. All achieved with your entire body weight resting precariously atop only five of your toes.
These moments are a high, and from the first moment you know you are capable of perfection, the pursuit becomes an addicting journey. Your teacher or rehearsal director encouraging you daily along this addiction seeking path that trains your brain to be disappointed in anything less than on the road to perfection. And you’re rewarded for the moments you achieve it. Over time, your views on everything begin to measure up against the bar of perfection. All aspects of your life you view yourself having control over could be better. Your pursuit of dance. Your body. Your person. Even your hobbies.
Yet, ballet also instills amazing skills like a strong work ethic, attention to detail, and unwavering perseverance. So how do you take the thing that instilled these “ideal” traits, but divorce them from the negative artifacts that accompany these super powers.
I’ve been exploring this theme of work ethic and perfection lately because it’s something that’s coming up quite a bit. It’s core to my identity as a former professional dancer. It’s something I’ve done a lot of work to let go of. And, as an entrepreneur it’s something I’m struggling with in a new light. In my output, and in recognizing how much work is enough to feel like I’m truly in pursuit of greatness. Where is the line between hard work, needed rest, and of detriment? How can you recognize it for yourself?
Recently working with a coach of mine, she asked me what my definition of a successful launch looks like? And I had to pause, because I’d been so focused on getting to launch, with the assumption that it will be successful, that I hadn’t stopped to define what that actually looks like.
I spent the morning asking myself this question and journaling out the details. Asking myself not only what it looks like in practice, but where my perfectionism shows up most in how I think about the launch?
I was reminded that launch is just a moment in time. The starting point for what I hope will be a long brand life. I was also reminded that whatever happens at launch is not a reflection of how hard I’ve worked, how good I am, or how worthy this brand is. It is data. And that data will be so useful.
This isn’t to say I still don’t want it to be successful. But I needed to map out what that success might look like, and why I want that. Is it realistic and meaningful? I had to be real with myself to know how to truly move forward in service of myself and my brand.
And if the universe was clearly reaching out to underscore this message. I wrapped my journaling exercise to go workout, taking a strength training class* from one of my favorite instructors. The end of this particular class was challenging and Chris, our instructor, shared these wise words: success and fulfillment are two different things. You don’t have to succeed to be fulfilled.
Ok, universe. I’m listening.
In the world of dance we have a saying: Bad dress rehearsal, great show. Superstition or not, it’s a way to let go of any fumbles that occur during this run so one can come to opening night with a fresh slate (read: don’t worry, you weren’t perfect tonight, but you will be tomorrow). In reflecting on this, I’ve been of the mindset that launch is opening night. But in reality, it’s the dress rehearsal. Moreso, it’s just a moment in time. And as my coach reminded me, it’s just data, and data is simply information. Information is power.
So I’m working on coming to launch (and hopefully life) with a little more dress rehearsal energy, and a little less opening night vibes.
*No gate keeping here. If you live in NYC, I’ve been working out through Speakeasy of Strength — formerly Mark Fisher Fitness — for years. The classes are silly, the community is amazing, and the workouts are fantastic. No sponsorship here, sharing out of a pure love for one of the ways I seek to keep my body happy and healthy.
