Not so long ago, a world leader was seeking re-election and was in some difficulty with his party. Following his poor performance in a debate, his supporters and detractors were watching nervously for every little slip, every mistake. Each time he made another gaffe, the world’s media amplified it, picking it over seemingly for days. Eventually, he stepped aside. This may seem a long way from the more mundane performance demands we all face, but it set me thinking.
I know I’m not alone in performing less well when I’m being closely watched. My mum was the same, especially if she was tired. “Don’t stand over me!” she’d snap, irritated at my hovering while she tried to complete a complicated piece of sewing. I sometimes hear myself using her words. Many autistic people mention how different their performance is when someone is watching, especially where judgement is involved. I’m not implying the world leader in question is autistic, but I do have some sympathy with the gaffes. They have the feel of those “don’t mention the elephant in the room” situations in which thinking about it makes it happen.
Add to that the fact that many of us are perfectionists. The need for the outcome to be as near perfect as possible can sometimes prevent me from even starting a project. I’m a keen amateur photographer. While friends enjoy the photos I post on Facebook. I look for the faults. That said, I steer clear of getting my images assessed by people with strict rules about how they should look. I may never win any competitions, but I am free to enjoy photography without a judgmental voice in my ear.
That brings me on to a special bugbear of mine, the folk I call the Photoshop police. They lurk on social media, ready to pounce on any photographer they believe has committed their cardinal sin of “Photoshopping” an image. When they spot you out with your camera, they sidle up to you, ask if you’re taking photos and then lecture you about not editing images “because Photoshop spoils them”. Professional photographers (and I) could not function without good image processing software, any more than the photographers of old could produce an image without a darkroom.
For a neurodivergent person, the drive for perfection can get in the way of the joy of starting and working on a project. I am aware that this post isn’t perfect, but it’s done, and I will try to be happy with that.
Photo, a gull on a pillar, with a small yacht, out of focus, sailing behind it.
