Let’s talk about perfectionism.

Hey y’all, it’s me. Let’s talk about perfectionism.

It’s one of those quiet patterns that looks like discipline on the outside but feels like desperation on the inside. You don’t even realize you’re doing it, overworking, over-giving, over-performing, until you’re sitting in the middle of your life wondering, “When did I stop being gentle with myself?”

For a lot of us, perfectionism started in childhood. Maybe you were the responsible one. The peacekeeper. The one who had to hold it all together because if you didn’t, everything around you would fall apart. So you learned to earn love through doing. You learned that to be seen, you had to be useful.

That was me for most of my life.
Growing up, I never felt like enough. I wanted my dad’s approval so badly that I started to believe if I became more, maybe I’d finally be worthy of love. So I became the perfect daughter, the one who could cook, help, fix, and carry everything. I was the emotional support, the therapist, the strong one. I thought if I could just keep being “good,” maybe that would make me lovable.

But no matter what I did, it was never enough. And when I didn’t find what I was looking for in my father’s love, I started seeking it in the people I dated, hoping they would see me, validate me, make me feel like enough.

They didn’t. And the truth is, they couldn’t.

Around 2021, I remember going through a breakup and standing in front of the mirror. My reflection felt blurry, like the person I was looking at didn’t even exist. I had poured into everyone else and abandoned myself completely. From my dad to my relationships to family, I was always giving, but never receiving.

That day changed everything. I made a promise to myself: I don’t ever want to feel invisible again.

That moment became the seed that birthed Becoming Herrss, a reminder to see myself, to love myself, to come home to myself. And even though that season was heavy, it was the beginning of my bloom.

Now, when I think about perfectionism, I don’t see it as a bad thing. I see it as a survival skill that once kept me safe. But I also see that it doesn’t serve me anymore. I had to learn that my worth isn’t found in how well I perform. It’s in my ability to be present, to be human, to just be.

And I know someone reading this needs that reminder too.
Because perfectionism might have been your protection, but it’s not your peace.

You don’t have to keep striving to earn love. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time. You can rest. You can release. You can be seen for who you are, not what you do.

Start by offering yourself grace when you fall short.
Start by letting people see the real, unpolished you.
Start by remembering that you are already enough, even when you’re still becoming.

You don’t have to perform to be loved.
You don’t have to perfect your healing to be worthy.
You just have to be.

You are allowed to lay the weight down. You are allowed to be human. You are allowed to grow at your own pace.

Because healing isn’t about becoming perfect, it’s about coming home to yourself.