To me it means totally accepting myself and whatever I produce creatively as perfect, warts and all. Back in the day, early in my writing career, my perfectionism was crippling my ability to get my work done. Each editorial assignment had to be perfect from word one. While my finished pieces rarely required much copy editing, they drained my time and energy. Only much later did I scrap that approach and allowed myself to enjoy — really enjoy — the messiness of writing. And it gave me tremendous freedom to create with greater ease and pleasure. Not that I don’t polish, tweak, refine. I love my language to flow so that my work has the desired impact. More that I don’t obsess about it so much. My work and I are “perfectly imperfect” and that suits me fine.