What Happened When I Stopped Trying to Be Perfect at Everything

My daughter found me reorganizing the pantry for the third time that week and asked the question that...

My daughter found me reorganizing the pantry for the third time that week and asked the question that stopped me cold: "Mom, why do the cans have to be perfect? Nobody else is going to see them."

I stood there, holding a can of tomatoes I'd been debating about – did it belong with the other canned vegetables or with the pasta sauce ingredients? – and realized I'd been spending twenty minutes on a decision that literally no one else in my family would notice or care about.

But it wasn't really about the cans.

It was about the fact that I'd reorganized my office twice that morning, rewritten an email four times before sending it, and spent an hour researching the "best" lunch to pack for her field trip instead of just throwing together something she'd actually eat.

I was perfecting my way out of being present.

This is the insidious thing about perfectionism that most people don't understand – it's not really about having high standards. It's about using impossibly high standards as a way to avoid the vulnerability of being seen as you actually are.

For years, I thought my perfectionism was serving me. After all, it got me through graduate school, helped me build a successful practice, and kept my home looking put-together when friends came over. It felt like discipline. It felt like caring about quality.

But here's what I've learned from working with hundreds of high-achieving women: Perfectionism isn't about excellence – it's about protection.

When everything has to be perfect, you never have to risk being judged for your real efforts. When nothing is ever quite good enough, you never have to be vulnerable to criticism. When you can always find something to improve, you never have to sit in the discomfort of being done.

My client Rachel described it perfectly: "If I send the imperfect email, people might think I'm sloppy. But if I never send any email because it's never perfect enough, then at least I can tell myself I'm maintaining high standards."

The problem is, maintaining impossibly high standards isn't sustainable. And it's definitely not serving the life you actually want to live.

That day in the pantry, watching my seven-year-old look at me with genuine confusion about why I was spending so much energy on something that didn't matter, I realized I'd been modeling something I didn't want her to inherit.

I'd been teaching her that normal human efforts weren't enough. That everything needed to be optimized, perfected, and performed.

The recognition hit me like desert heat when you first step outside: I was using perfectionism to avoid being fully present in my own life.

Instead of enjoying the process of cooking, I was stressed about whether I was meal planning optimally. Instead of connecting with friends, I was anxious about whether my house looked impressive enough. Instead of celebrating completing projects, I was immediately focusing on what could be improved next time.

I was living my life like it was a rough draft I needed to perfect before the real living could begin.

That evening, I decided to try an experiment. For one week, I would practice being deliberately mediocre at three things that didn't actually matter for my family's wellbeing or my professional responsibilities.

The pantry could be organized functionally but not Pinterest-perfect. Emails could be clear and helpful but not literary masterpieces. My daughter's lunch could be nutritious and something she'd eat, even if it wasn't the most creative or Instagram-worthy option.

The reflection came in realizing how much mental energy I'd been spending on things that truly didn't matter.

Here's what surprised me: When I stopped perfectifying the little things, I had more energy for the things that actually did matter. When I wasn't spending twenty minutes arranging cans, I had time to sit with my daughter and hear about her day. When I wasn't rewriting emails seven times, I could respond to more clients thoughtfully. When I wasn't researching the optimal lunch for an hour, I could pack something perfectly adequate in five minutes and use the remaining time to connect with my family.

The renewal didn't happen overnight. My perfectionist brain fought back hard. It told me I was being lazy, that people would judge me, that I was letting my standards slip in dangerous ways.

But then something interesting happened. The world didn't end when I sent the imperfect email. My daughter loved her "good enough" lunch. Friends still enjoyed coming over even when my house looked lived-in rather than staged.

And slowly, I started to see the difference between perfectionism and actual standards.

Real standards are about quality that serves a purpose. I still put effort into my therapy sessions because that affects my clients' wellbeing. I still proofread important professional communications because clarity matters in my work. I still keep our home clean and comfortable because that supports my family's health and happiness.

But I stopped perfectifying the things that were just about my ego or my anxiety.

The rise has been discovering that "good enough" in the right places actually makes room for excellence in the places that truly matter.

When I'm not exhausting myself with perfectionist energy on trivial decisions, I can bring my full self to the conversations and connections that actually change lives – including my own.

Now when I catch myself perfectifying something, I pause and ask: Is this standard serving a real purpose, or is it serving my anxiety? Am I improving this because it will genuinely make life better for someone, or because I'm afraid of being seen as imperfect?

Most of the time, good enough really is good enough.

Your invitation this week:

Notice where you're perfectifying things that don't actually matter for your wellbeing or your real goals. Pick three areas where you can practice "good enough" – maybe it's how you load the dishwasher, how you word casual text messages, or how you organize one small space.

Practice the discomfort of done. Resist the urge to tweak and improve and optimize. See what happens when you redirect that perfectionistic energy toward something that truly serves your life.

Worth remembering:

• Being a Perfectionist: Embrace Your Standards

• Let Go of Guilt and Empower Your Growth Journey

You don't have to earn your worth through perfect performance. You're allowed to be beautifully, authentically good enough.

With love and light,

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A few friendly notes: Client names are always changed to protect privacy. This newsletter may contain affiliate links to products I genuinely love and use myself. While I'm a licensed therapist, this content is for educational purposes and isn't medical advice - think of it as a conversation with a friend who happens to know about mental health. For personalized support, always consult your healthcare provider.