Recovering Perfectionist

I used to joke about being a perfectionist.
You know the type — overly particular, explaining every little thing I did in case someone thought I was being “too much.” I’d brush it off with humor: “Haha, classic perfectionist!” But the truth is, I wasn’t laughing because it was funny. I was laughing because I was insecure. About looking weird. About being misunderstood. About taking up too much space.

And here’s the ironic thing: I used to celebrate being weird.
I’d say things like “I’d rather be weird than normal.” And while I still believe we weren’t made to blend in, I’ve come to understand that it’s not about choosing weird over normal. It’s about knowing we were never meant to be identical. We were made in the image of a wildly creative God. Wonderfully and uniquely made. That’s the real beauty — not perfection, but divine variation.

So… perfectionism.

This past year has been a journey of reclaiming and rediscovering who I really am. And one thing I’ve learned (thanks, TikTok therapy) is that perfectionism isn’t a personality trait — it’s a trauma response.

Oof.
That hit.
Because I never saw it as harmful — not really. I only noticed it when I felt like I was annoying someone with it. But when I started learning how perfectionism can quietly shape our relationships and project pressure onto others, I realized: I’d been asking everyone around me to live under my perfectionism, too.

I was expecting flawless from myself and unintentionally making others feel like they had to walk on eggshells around me. My students. My friends. My family. My ex-husband.

I heard echoes of people telling me, “Nothing’s ever good enough for you,” and for the first time… I actually believed them. That was hard to sit with. But it was also the beginning of a shift.

So I did what any modern woman in her healing era does: I searched for how to become a former perfectionist.

And while I’m still in process, here are the five truths that are helping me unravel the perfectionist mindset and reclaim peace:

1. Done is better than perfect.

Perfectionism is often procrastination dressed up as discipline. But real progress comes from completion, not endless tweaking. You can’t improve what doesn’t exist. Let “good enough” be a starting point — not a compromise, but a release.

2. You don’t have to earn your worth.

You’re not more lovable because you got it just right. Your value doesn’t fluctuate based on precision or performance. You are already worthy. Period. Grace > perfection. Every time.

3. Give yourself the grace you give others.

Would you ever speak to someone you love the way you speak to yourself when you “mess up”? Probably not. So why hold yourself to a harsher standard? Flaws are not failures — they’re how people connect to the real you.

4. Let people be in process.

You’re not the only one healing. Everyone’s navigating their own messy middle. Their process doesn’t need to match yours to be valid. Stop trying to fix. Start witnessing. That’s where connection lives.

5. Perfectionism is about control — and control kills connection.

Trying to control everything might make you feel safe… but it also makes it hard to breathe. The more you loosen your grip, the more room you make for joy, intimacy, and creativity. People don’t need your polish — they need your presence.

I still catch myself reaching for perfection sometimes — especially in the little things.
But now, I see it. I pause. I choose presence.

And if you’re wondering why the cover photo for this post is a piece of toast with peanut butter, bananas, honey, and bee pollen — that’s why.

The old me would’ve carefully cut the banana slices to be the exact same size. I’d have made sure the honey didn’t drip off the edge and the bee pollen was evenly scattered. If one flake fell off the toast onto the plate, I’d clean it immediately.

But not today.

Today I let the honey fall.
I let the toast be imperfect.
And I enjoyed every single bite.

Because healing isn’t always loud or dramatic.
Sometimes it’s just letting the honey spill.

And realizing that your worth has nothing to do with the crumbs.