People are too concerned with the idea of perfection. We crave it at an ironfisted-control-freak-Martha-Stewart level in our lives. And we nearly kill ourselves—or let others kill us—pursuing it at work. Perfection is a head game we play with ourselves—no one outside of our heads really cares about the nitpicky details we stress over. It works like this: Set unobtainable goals; then, when you don’t achieve them, drive yourself into depression. You can give it a fancy name like “True Perfectionist,” but I prefer “Self-Hating Narcissist.”
On its surface, perfectionism seems like it would be a professional advantage, a creative accelerator. But really, as a driver, it hits the brakes more often than the gas. Perfectionism stops you from starting projects—or even relationships—because you are not ready. It stops you from finishing projects because they are never quite right. “When it’s perfect!” is our defense, but this habitual overthinking leaves us stymied, unable to get over ourselves and just move.
Should you strive for excellence? Of course. Pay attention to the details? Yes. But never let “perfect” stop progress. You know what’s better than perfect? Done. Done is better than perfect.
