To the Person Who Wants to Punch Perfection in the Face

Mercado de San Miguel (Madrid, Spain)

Mercado de San Miguel (Madrid, Spain)

To the Person that Wants to Punch Perfection in the Face:

Why do I want to punch Perfection in the face?

While I know it’s petty to blame all your problems on a singular cause—I’m to state that perfection has been one of the largest hindrances in my life along with the black-hole monster of Fear.

So put Fear and Perfectionism together and what do you get? Fear of being IM-Perfect.


But I don’t want this post to be about my many years struggling with the idea of perfectionism, I want it to be about why I’m so glad I’m imperfect and why you should be too.


So yeah, I'm imperfect.

But guess what? So are you.

And I couldn’t be happier that we, as two imperfect human beings have found ourselves here.

Because I, and maybe you too, have struggled with striving for perfection and dealt with the demons of Fear rooted in imperfection.


On some level I always knew perfection was unattainable. From the beginning, we are born with something that someone out there could claim was “imperfect” and bam. Just like that. There we are—branded for life.

So why, oh god why, did I strive to be someone’s version of perfect my entire life? Because I believed that perfectionism = happiness.

It was like 2 + 2 = 4 to me at the time. But now it’s like 2 + 2 = fish.


In its definition, perfectionism constructs a pyramid that is continually and inevitably unattainable. It sets a standard that is always just out of reach, so as we keep grasping desperately for even an ounce of it, we overexert ourselves just to reach the unattainable.


Perfectionism consistently tells us that we are not good enough.

And defines good enough as sub-par.


Who gave perfectionism all the power anyway?

Oh that’s right—I did.


I fed perfectionism like my life depending on it; I kept giving it life and power over me like gasoline to a fire until it consumed me.


And when it did, it was the hardest but one of the most pivotal moments in my life.


I’m not perfect. I’m actually quite imperfect. And that’s f***ing great.


I will no longer feed the inferno of Perfectionism.

I will let the desire to be perfect extinguish along with its’ demons of fear.


Take that Perfectionism, I will no longer be controlled by you.

Why leave an old friend? It whispers.

Because I don’t need you anymore.


Without the fear of perfectionism, I realized that was the beginning of compassion and connection.

Once I left Perfectionism to survive without me, I started to see a lot of people around me who fed It.

They consistently felt guilty for not being able to “do it all” and never asked for help because of it.

They always blamed themselves before external factors outside of their control.

They grew resentment towards themselves for not being able to be someone else’s idea of “perfect”.


That was me.

But I don’t want to be that person anymore.

I want to have more compassion, empathy, understanding, and love for others, but most importantly myself.


It’s still a work in progress.

But I feel as if my eyes have been opened, and I’m awake now.

Telling Perfectionism to kiss my a** and embracing my imperfectionism, Because I’d rather feel whole while being imperfect that constantly trying to fill a hole of desire caused my perfectionism.  





Disclaimer: This post was inspired Courtney Carver of Be More with Less, courtesy of my favorite podcast Optimal Living Daily. I’ll leave links to both down below and I highly recommend checking both of them out!


Courtney Carver:



Cindal MaComment