Why I Learned to Embrace Imperfection First

Credit Pexels

I’m a recovering perfectionist.

Recovering, because I never used to feel comfortable publishing anything unless I thought it was truly my best work.

I’ve spent hours perfecting a single chapter of fanfiction, hunting for the typos that I only ever found after hitting the “publish” button.

Is it good enough?


Not to my standards back then.

I’ve felt the cold grip of anxiety turning in a lackluster assignment.

Did I study enough? Did I check my work enough? Is it ever enough?

It’s got a name.

This is called “perfection paralysis” when you can’t move forward on anything for the feeling of it not being good enough.

What helped me is this:

No one cares as much as me.

It sounds harsh, but take a moment to think about it.

My wants and dreams and desires and values are specific to me.

How can we expect someone else to be as invested in our work as we are when they can’t see our visions?

How often do we look at someone else’s work and think about how we would have done it?


When I write fanfiction I know the intimate details and backstories for my characters, some of which drive decisions the readers might not understand.

It’s a recipe for disappointment.

Perfection kills any kind of progress.

Waiting until you’re ready means you’ll be waiting forever.

We’re never ready, and nothing will ever be perfect.

Like anything else, changing perspective is hard. Changing mindset and attitude is hard.

Becoming a “recovering perfectionist” and maintaining my ability to just let things go is hard.

Embracing imperfection gave me an avenue to becoming better.

Demir and Carey Bentley of Lifehack Bootcamp advocate for massive imperfect action.

One of the most damaging mindsets out there is that “this imperfect thing” is keeping me from my perfect results.

There are no perfect solutions.

No perfect creative works.

No perfect families, or people, or children.

No perfect jobs.

And we shouldn’t have an expectation of perfection.

All that leads to is disappointment.

Unfinished chapters.

Half-painted canvases.

Unchecked solutions.

Poor job performance.

The decision to quit instead of pushing through the hard parts.



No one cares as much as you do.

Not your parents, your spouse, your children, your relatives, friends, bosses, coworkers, churchmembers, readers, or anyone else who bears witness to what you do and what you create.

And that gives YOU the power and control to create imperfect things that can change lives.