We’ve been sold a lie, told that if we’re perfect enough and do things “just right,” we’ll finally be safe from failure, criticism, and disappointment, and that success, praise, and joy will naturally follow.

So we revise the email one more time before sending it. We stay late to catch details no one else will notice. We delay the launch until it feels right. We redo work that’s already good because it doesn’t match the picture in our mind. We say yes to projects we don’t have the capacity for because saying no feels risky. We hold off on starting things unless we can guarantee they’ll be flawless.

We apologize before anyone asks for it. We overexplain our choices. We look for reassurance, then question it when it comes. We compare our behind-the-scenes to everyone else’s highlight reel and come up short. We move the goalposts the moment we reach them. We call it high standards, but often it’s fear hiding behind productivity.

We chase a finish line that keeps moving. We equate exhaustion with dedication. We promise ourselves that things will get easier after this project, this quarter, this milestone. We build an identity around being the one who delivers, who never drops the ball, who makes it look easy.

Somewhere along the way, we stop asking if all this striving actually creates the safety and success we were promised.

This is perfectionism.

Your inner perfectionist often claims to protect you, but can also, quietly, turn into limitations.

Burnout isn’t always looming on the horizon; for many, it’s already the daily reality.

I’ve worked with high performers, ambitious leaders, and driven executives in every form, from one-on-one coaching to large-scale team transformation.

They set remarkably high standards and achieve them. They produce excellent work and often make excellence look effortless. They dismiss their own accomplishments, find identity in overworking, and wear exhaustion as evidence of worth. Success brings a brief hit of relief before the next target appears.

Others face the same perfectionism from a different angle, procrastinating until everything feels just right, analyzing every possible outcome to avoid the discomfort of imperfection.

Both groups share the same self-criticism.

It’s often mistaken for excellence, but it’s really an adaptive strategy that has outlived its usefulness, a pattern that once helped us succeed but now keeps us from evolving.

If this feels familiar, you’re not alone, and there’s nothing broken about you. I, too, am a recovering perfectionist.

If you’re done achieving at the expense of your peace, it’s time to work differently.

Let’s get started.