I'm a Recovering Perfectionist (Still Recovering)
I want everything I create to be impeccable. Every event to go off without a hitch. I want to eat only healthy foods, exercise daily, meditate consistently, and write in my gratitude journal every single day.
None of this is realistic. It's not even healthy, it's created enormous stress in my life.
Here's the truth: I still want all these things. I still want my life to be perfect. I just realize it's not possible, and I'm not going to beat myself up about it anymore. At least not as much as I used to.
How Perfectionism Holds You Back
Striving to be perfect doesn't make you better. It paralyzes you.
It keeps you from trying something new because you're afraid you'll fail. It stops you from starting projects because they might not turn out the way you want. It prevents growth because most of our growth comes from learning from mistakes.
Perfectionism also destroys your health. Research shows perfectionists have higher rates of depression and anxiety. The chronic stress takes a toll on physical health too, often leading to shorter lifespans.
Trying to be perfect is literally killing us.
The Voice in My Head
When I was younger and made a mistake, the negative talk would start immediately. I'd call myself stupid or worthless. Then I'd catastrophize, spiraling into all the horrible things that would happen because I'd screwed up. I'd feel anxious, bad about myself, unable to sleep.
One day I realized: I would never talk to someone else the way I talked to myself. And I would never tolerate that behavior from anyone else.
I started paying attention to my inner dialogue. I began asking myself, "If a friend was in this situation, what would I say to them?"
When I made a mistake, I owned it and asked how I could do things differently next time. What could I learn from this? Eventually, my perspective shifted. Mistakes weren't the end of the world, they were opportunities for growth.
Progress Not Perfection
I'm far from perfect. I still beat myself up sometimes. I'm more short-tempered than I'd like to be. And starting my speaking business brought all my perfectionist tendencies roaring back.
Before, if I stumbled over a word during a speech or lost my place for a moment, I would obsess over it for days. I messed that up. Everyone noticed. They probably think I don't know what I'm doing. I'm a fraud. That one small mistake would overshadow all the positive feedback I received.
If I sent an email to a potential client and later spotted a typo: They're going to think I'm unprofessional. I just lost that booking. Why didn't I proofread it one more time? I'd spiral into anxiety, convinced that one misspelled word ruined everything.
If something wasn't perfect, I'd convinced myself it was worthless.
Now when I stumble during a speech, I acknowledge it and keep going. The audience is there for the content, not for flawless delivery. They want authenticity, not perfection. Often, they don't even notice the mistakes I'm fixating on.
When I spot a typo in an email I've already sent, I remind myself: it's okay. One misspelled word doesn't negate my expertise or my message. People care about the value I provide, not whether every comma is in the right place.
This mindset gets me back to focusing on what matter: connecting with my audience and delivering content that makes a difference.
Done Is Better Than Perfect
In my business, I repeat this mantra constantly: done is better than perfect. It keeps me from endlessly tweaking projects, which is my natural tendency.
At home, it means the floors aren't mopped as often as I'd like. Leftovers are on the menu again. And you know what? No one's going to remember in five years that we had spaghetti three nights in a row or that laundry waited an extra day.
What I will remember is the walk we took instead and the conversation we had.
This doesn't mean I don't care how things turn out. I care deeply. I still have high standards for my relationships, my home, and my work.
But I realize I have limited resources: time, energy, and money. If I strive for perfection in everything, I can't give anything my absolute best.
So I put my resources into what's most important to me, the people and things that are highest on my priority list. And I let go of the rest.
Your Turn
What are you stressing over because you want it to be perfect? How has this striving for perfection negatively impacted you, your loved ones, or your work?
Think about your priorities. Are you putting your finite resources toward what matters most? If not, what needs to change?
What are the little things you can let go of the need to be perfect on?
And here's the most important question: What will you gain by letting go of the constant need for perfection?
You may find your answer surprising.