Hi, I’m an Emotional Perfectionist (Nice to Meet You)

 

Hi there - emotional perfectionist here.

If you constantly feel the pressure to be everything to everyone, do everything just right, and never let a ball drop… you’re not alone. Welcome to the club. I’ve been a card-carrying member of this perfectionist circle for as long as I can remember.

For me, perfectionism isn’t about doing things well, it’s about doing them flawlessly. Every. Single. Time. I struggle when things don’t go exactly the way I pictured them. Whether it’s the house not being spotless, my white sneakers getting even slightly scuffed, or feeling like I’ve let someone down by not being the perfect daughter, wife, friend, or employee, it all weighs on me.

And here’s the part that’s the hardest to admit: I physically don’t know how to rest. My mind is always going, analyzing, planning, processing, fixing. I wake up thinking about how to improve things, not just in my own life, but in everyone else’s, too. It’s exhausting. And while that drive might look like a strength on the outside, it can feel like a cage on the inside.

But I’ve been learning something lately: perfectionism is just a coping mechanism. It’s the armor we put on when we’re afraid of not being enough. It’s how we try to earn love, approval, and a sense of control in a chaotic world. And while it may have protected us at one point, it can start to steal our joy if we’re not careful.

One of the biggest shifts in my healing journey has been learning to offer grace to others and myself. I used to cut people off the moment they disappointed me. No conversation, no explanation. I saw it as self-respect, but really, it was self-protection. Now, I’m trying to pause. To listen. To consider that maybe people are doing the best they can, just like I am. Growth, for me, has looked like softening. Letting things breathe.

I’m also starting to accept that a “lived-in” life is still good. The house doesn’t need to look like a Pinterest board. The laundry can wait. The sneakers can be cleaned, again. There’s beauty in imperfection, even if I must remind myself of that daily.

A funny example? At work (I’m a florist), I used to freak out when someone left a mess on my station or “borrowed” my clippers. I mean full-blown internal chaos. That space was my domain, and I needed it perfect. But now? I couldn't care less. Truly. That shift took eleven years—not one therapy session, not one self-help book. It took time, experience, and a whole lot of learning to pick my peace over my need for control.

Change doesn’t always happen overnight. Sometimes, it takes years of quiet effort before you even notice the difference. And that’s okay.

So if you’re reading this and nodding along, if you’re someone who can’t seem to let go, who pushes themselves too hard, who constantly thinks they need to be more, I just want to say this: You are allowed to rest. You are allowed to be messy. You are allowed to be a work in progress and still be deeply worthy of love and belonging.

Perfection isn’t the goal anymore. Peace is. Grace is. Wholeness is.

Let’s learn how to be softer with ourselves, together.

- Payton Blackwood