Perfectionism is a dangerous condition that quietly infiltrates the things we love—our creativity, our hobbies, our passions—until what once felt energizing is clouded by self-doubt.
For a long time, perfectionism ruled my life. It influenced the choices I made, or didn’t make, shaping everything from what I wore to what I studied, and even who I believed I could be. It even infiltrated my relationships, an arena it was never welcome in.
Many wear perfectionism like a badge of honor. Myself included. It’s a LinkedIn humblebrag. People file it under ‘weakness’ when potential employers ask you to list your strengths and weaknesses; an acceptable flaw that fuels one’s ambition on the surface. It’s used as shorthand for “I have high standards.”
Perfectionism is a beautifully manicured wall you’ve built around yourself to protect you from perceived failure. And it’s not a conducive environment for growth or striving for greatness.
Growth requires failure. There’s no way around it.
You must fail so you can learn and improve. Perfectionism rejects the possibility of failure so much it prevents movement entirely. It’s an extremist’s comfort mindset: I have to be perfect at this. Nothing less. I cannot fail.
It’s paralyzing, debilitating and heartbreaking. And the irony is that a mindset so focused on perceived mastery is actually preventing you (and me) from attaining your deepest desires.
The Myth of Flawlessness
My favorite thing about writing is that it’s never finished—it can always be made better. An article can always be revised, a book manuscript can always be edited, a film can always use a closer look. It’s the process of improving your work that makes it so satisfying.
But, the process requires imperfection and incompleteness and curiosity. You ask yourself, “Could this be better?” Yes, of course. The answer is always yes.
A piece of art can always be made ‘better.’ But at some point, it becomes sterile. Untouchable. And worst of all, not interesting.
To me, perfectionism is about control. And underneath that desire for control is fear—fear of being judged, fear of failing, fear of being seen trying and not succeeding. Fear of not being enough.
Perfectionism says: if you succeed and no one sees you struggle, then you’re enough. Here’s a gold star for your forehead for the day. You must earn it again tomorrow, but today you are worthy.
And I’d wear that gold star like a badge of honor.
But sometimes, the fear of failing becomes so strong, it fully takes over. The idea that going after what you want could result in failure is death to someone who expects perfection the first go around. It’s not acceptable.
So you stop trying altogether. And you remove yourself from the very future you hope to reach: the one where you do succeed.
Perfectionism sinks its teeth deep into the very essence of who you are and who you want to become. And if you’re not careful, you could lose yourself in it. Or worse: you never become the person you could’ve been–because you never tried.
Perfectionism Turns Ambition into Armor
In myself, perfectionism masquerades as ambition. It’s pushed me to pursue goals for the sake of achievement alone. Not meaning. Not fulfillment. Just the win. Because who am I if not succeeding? That’s a question I’m still answering.
If you don’t know me, you’d be surprised to know that I trained in classical ballet for 15 years. I wasn’t the best and sure as hell wasn’t going to become a principal ballet dancer for the American Ballet Theatre, but I loved ballet. It made me feel alive.
What most people don’t know about ballet is the amount of discipline and awareness of self it requires. No, not requires–demands. Point your toes, watch your turnout, tuck in your pelvis, engage your core, arms in graceful yet strong, and shoulders up and back. But make it look effortless. Maintain a neutral pleasant face. Stay on count. Enter stage left.
Ballet is such a tedious, mindful discipline that mastery–which takes years of training, mind you–must appear perfect. Key word: appear.
Perfection isn’t real. There is no one perfect human. The myth of perfection is that there’s a version of the story you tell yourself where you come out clean, untouched, effortlessly flawless.
In reality, perfectionism is a mask. It’s a carefully selected facade I picked up one day, decided to wear and never take off. It offers me little comfort and carries high emotional stakes, but it’s kept me “safe” and protected me from actually being seen for fear of rejection.
It’s easy to think, If I am perfect, then no one can hurt me.
Maybe that is true. If you never said the wrong thing, always looked perfect, always had the right answer—you might be seen as flawless. But would that really be you? Would you show up as your most authentic, vibrant self? Would you enjoy each passing minute of life without worrying if you were making a mistake?
Sure, no one would hurt you. But I’d argue no one would see you either. Because to be seen and rejected is a perfectionist’s worst nightmare. It confirms to the perfectionist: I was not perfect and it was not accepted.
But that’s when you should begin to challenge your own beliefs.
The Privilege of Imperfection
Part of overcoming perfectionism is giving yourself permission. If you’re like me, your perfectionism has ruled your life. It’s dictated over each and every decision, sometimes paralyzing you with indecision. What’s the right choice, you ask yourself. What would the perfect choice be?
But you’re asking the wrong question: what do you want to do? Not what is expected of you by others or what you think you should do. What do you want to do? Answer that, then decide.
And what a privilege it is to decide. To reflect and ponder and consider. Especially as a woman. Women in the U.S. couldn’t even have bank accounts in their names until the 1960s.
What a privilege it is to have autonomy over your life. What a privilege it is to decide and fail and decide again.
Because news flash: you’re not perfect. You’re already a person with a past. You’ve already made choices. Some of them were brilliant. Some were…let’s just call them “educational.” You’re a marked-up draft—full of edits, changes, and lived experience. That’s the interesting part.
For me, part of trying to overcome my perfectionistic habits is by literally giving myself permission to do something I wouldn’t normally do. Like writing a blog detailing my deepest fears of failure and imperfection, for example.
It’s about removing the expectation you have of yourself of being perfect and allowing yourself to just be. I challenge you to remove a brick from the perfect wall you built around yourself and let others begin to see you. Who are you when you’re not trying? Who are you when you’re actively doing something you enjoy?
So yes, perfectionism is a myth, a mask, a wall, a debilitating mindset. It’s a daily battle for perfectionists like me. If you’ve struggled and have been struggling with perfectionistic tendencies, I see you. Today, I hope you win.
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