What Perfectionism Is Really About

We know we’re not perfect. That’s not the problem. The problem is that those of us who aspire to be perfect still believe that perfection might be possible. Maybe not for us, but for someone, somewhere.

Perfectionists will often acquiesce, and say out loud, that no one’s perfect. Even when they want more freedom, teens can feel weighed down by the mounting responsibilities of adolescence. It’s a confusing and emotionally intense time.

We know how unlikely it is to ever be fully perfect. We’ve never managed it ourselves, though not for lack of trying. Still, beneath all the logic, there’s a quiet, persistent hope that maybe, somehow, we could still get it right. If we say the right thing, do the right thing, become the right kind of person, then we’ll finally be safe. We’ll be seen. We’ll be allowed to rest.

Even if we know perfection isn’t real, part of us keeps chasing it. Not for recognition. Not to impress. If that were the goal, we would have felt satisfied a long time ago. We chase it because deep down, we’re afraid we’re not okay as we are. And after chasing for so long, we’re scared of what might happen if we stop, even if stopping is what we want most.

We don’t keep going because we want to be perfect. That’s just the story we tell. We say we’re improving, striving, trying to be our best. But underneath that is fear. We keep going because we’re terrified of what might happen if we don’t. If we leave something undone. If we get it wrong. If we are wrong.

Because what we really want isn’t perfection. It’s freedom.

But somewhere along the way, we learned that freedom has to be earned. Earned through effort. Through excellence. Through control. We started believing that if we could just do everything right, we’d finally be able to breathe. Finally feel safe enough to exist as we are.

So perfectionism becomes a performance. We perform calm. Kindness. Competence. We perform being the good one, the grateful one, the generous one. We curate our pain. We shrink our needs. We try not to take up too much space.

It doesn’t actually matter how we see ourselves. What matters is how we’re seen. So we become fluent in self-denial. We craft a version of ourselves that others will praise, approve of, choose. And our minds become rigid, punishing places to live.

We convince ourselves that if we stop performing, everything will fall apart. Including us. So we keep going. We push through. We over-function and under-rest. We confuse anxiety with responsibility. We give from an empty cup and then feel like failures for needing to refill it. We become martyrs in our own lives and wonder why we feel so far from the peace we’re chasing.

Here’s the thing.
Perfectionism isn’t about being perfect.
It’s about the fear of being unlovable without effort.
That’s why it’s so hard to let go.

So maybe the question isn’t how do I stop being a perfectionist.
Maybe it’s this:
What am I really seeking through this performance?
Is it love? Belonging? Safety? Permission? Peace?
And what would it mean to want those things without having to earn them?

That is where healing begins.

If this feels familiar, if you’re exhausted from performing and ready to feel more like yourself again, therapy can help. Reach out today to schedule a session. Let’s begin the work of coming home to who you are.