On the Curse of Perfection

Where does the thin line run between caring for yourself and perfectionist madness?

First comes comfort. We turn sleep into a ritual: the perfect mattress, absolute silence, blackout curtains. And then we notice — without those conditions, sleep no longer comes. Not in a hotel, not on a plane, not at a friend’s place.

Then comes food. We choose organic, we calculate nutrient density, we take our supplements on protocol. And now the slightest deviation — one extra preservative, bread made from the wrong flour — brings on anxiety, a heaviness in the stomach, a sense of guilt.

We get the body into shape — strong, lean, toned. But then a pimple shows up, a photo from the wrong angle, an extra kilo — and shame arrives. Instead of lightness and confidence comes the urge to hide. Beauty becomes the condition for being accepted, rather than its byproduct.

We build a life of awareness: rituals, calm, control. And anyone else’s spontaneous, loud or brazen behavior starts to feel like an intrusion — something coarse, vulgar, incompatible with “harmony.”

We create a sterile space around ourselves and our children. And now the most minor virus knocks us flat, because the immune system has gone soft.

Paradoxically, this doesn’t make us stronger — it makes us more fragile. Like a crystal vase: beautiful, but easy to break.

Painting perfect scenarios in our heads, we grow so used to those images that we lose the ability to accept the living and the real. And the living thing — it’s a little disheveled, loud in places, often unpredictable. And in the end, we get nothing at all.

Why live in this trap?

I set very high goals, but I’m comfortable with an 80-percent result. I’m fond of the idea: “better done somehow than perfected but never done.” I want to sleep well when I travel, not stress about jet lag, eat a burger now and then, dance badly, sing off-key. To be emotional, loud, at times vulnerable — and not be ashamed of it. To accept “good enough,” with gratitude, in the absence of perfect.

The proverb “the best is the enemy of the good” is often misread as giving up on ambition. But its real point is different: if you chase perfection without end, you may never learn to enjoy what you already have. And then — lose that too.

Here’s to dialing down the perfectionism, learning to value and celebrate “good enough” results, and letting ourselves be alive rather than flawless! 😎