6 Ways to Tame Your Inner Perfectionist

Note: This post first showed up on my blog in May 2024. It’s been freshly updated to reflect this week’s round of “holy hell, here we go again” with my inner perfectionist. Some things never die, they just get sneakier.

One of the biggest buzzkills in running a creative soul-led biz? That overachieving, nitpicky voice in your head that demands perfect before it’ll let you hit publish, list the thing, or god forbid… sell something.

I know it well. She’s loud. She’s relentless. She probably drinks black coffee and judges people who don’t alphabetize their bookshelf. (Not that I’m judging anyone who drinks black coffee or alphabetizes their bookshelf. But for the record, while my inner perfectionist wishes, “outside me” does neither.)

And she’s been coming for me hard this week while I’ve been deep in Birthday Bash mode, trying to finish graphics, write content, and create party favours that don’t make me cringe. Somewhere along the way, my bestie called me out (with love, mostly). My oracle deck dragged me too, and even ChatGPT had the nerve to suggest I stop aiming for perfect and just aim for done. Rude.

So yeah… if you’re wrestling with perfectionism, you are not alone.

And the worst part? Perfectionism kills momentum. It keeps your brilliance stuck in drafts, half-finished files, and “just one more tweak” land. Which means your magic never sees the light of day. And that’s a problem, especially when you're trying to run a business that, y’know, actually makes money.

But fear not, fellow recovering perfectionist. I’ve got six ways to wrestle that voice into the passenger seat where it belongs. (Whether I actually follow my own advice is… another story.)

Mistakes happen. Welcome to Earth.

Creative work is messy. And if you’re not screwing things up occasionally, are you even creating anything new? Mistakes are part of the deal. They're also the fast track to growth, weirdly enough.

So instead of curling up in a shame spiral, try this: notice what didn’t work, make a mental (or literal) note, and move on. No drama required.

Your inner perfectionist doesn’t know how to have fun. It’s all deadlines and checklists and “this better impress people.”

So teach it how.

Do something ridiculous and pressure-free. Doodle. Finger paint. Dance like a dork. Make a collage out of magazine scraps and glitter glue. Not everything needs to be a portfolio piece. Some things are just for joy, and that joy? Total creative rocket fuel.

Perfectionism loves to show you the finish line while conveniently ignoring the 78 steps between here and there. Cue overwhelm.

Here’s your counter-move: break it down. Just do step one. Forget about step ten. It’s not your business yet.

By the time you get through the middle part, the thing you’re making might look totally different anyway. Probably better. But if you never start because you’re trying to do it all at once, you’ll never find out.

This one’s gonna sting.

You don’t have to be “on” all the time. You're allowed to phone it in now and then. You can post the blurry-but-still-cute photo or hit publish on something that’s solid, even if it’s not groundbreaking.

Save your energy for the stuff that matters most. Let the rest be a little rough. Real beats perfect every time.

Let’s be honest. Perfectionism is usually about fear. Fear of failure. Fear of not being good enough. Fear that if your thing isn’t flawless, no one will want it, or you.

That’s a heavy load to carry.

So take some time to dig into those stories. Journal it out. Talk it through. Meditate. Pull a card or two. Do what you need to do to come back to the truth: you are enough, your work is worthy, and you don’t need a gold star to prove it.

Seriously. Take a nap.

Perfectionism thrives on tension. It feeds off urgency and “just one more edit.” It hates stillness.

So give it some. Go for a walk. Stretch. Sip tea. Lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling. Whatever helps you unclench and reconnect with your actual self, do more of that.

Perfectionism might look like ambition, but under the hood? It’s fear dressed up as productivity. And if you let it drive the bus, it will steer you straight into burnout.

You don’t need to be perfect. You need to be visible. You need to be you. You need to get your work out there and trust that it’s already enough for the person who needs to hear it today.

So take a breath. Publish the thing. Let it be done.

And let yourself move on.