Perfectionism Be Damned – When the Process Becomes the Goal

I used to write for hours on end when I was younger.

Stories, reflections, research papers that gave me a chance to fill pages with new ideas and perspectives. Writing was one of those rare things that felt like pure expression — no performance necessary.

And then the subjective criticism arrived.

Receiving high grades or strong feedback was one thing. Being told I wasn't thinking far enough outside the box, or that I wasn't writing seriously enough, landed like a fist to the gut.

The artistic outlet I loved became something I felt I had to protect — not by learning to receive feedback and grow from it, but by giving it up altogether.

I didn't write consistently again for years.

What Coming Back Taught Me

Over the last several months, I've returned to writing. It started as an outlet for processing emotions and engaging my creativity, and it's become something I didn't expect: a direct confrontation with my own perfectionism.

Here's what I'm learning: perfectionism is keeping us from being. Not even being good – from being anything at all.

Nothing makes you a writer but writing.

No amount of planning in your head is going to make you good at something. And the more time you spend convincing yourself that someone else does it better, the less likely you are to ever try – and through trying, to learn, grow, and actually experience the thing you want.

Psychologist Carol Dweck, whose research on mindset has shaped how we understand human potential, makes an important distinction here: people with a fixed mindset believe ability is static – you either have it or you don't. People with a growth mindset understand that ability develops through effort and experience.

Perfectionism, at its core, is fixed mindset in disguise. It tells us that if we can't do something well immediately, the attempt itself is evidence of inadequacy.

Brené Brown puts it even more directly: perfectionism isn't about striving for excellence. It's a form of self-protection – a way of avoiding the vulnerability of being seen trying, and possibly failing.

I gave up writing for years because of exactly that. I was protecting myself from the discomfort of being imperfect in public.

The Outline I Had to Throw Away

Earlier this year, I started writing a novel.

True to form, I approached it like a perfectionist. I spent weeks developing a detailed outline – mapping every moment of the story before a single word hit the page. I wanted to arrive at my writing with the assurance that it would already be good.

And then, after a day spent away from screens, I sat down with a notebook and wrote the entire first chapter in one sitting.

It was crap.

But it was a start! And that start allowed me to write the second chapter. And then, halfway through that one, I realized I had to throw out the entire outline.

Because through the process of actually writing, characters began to emerge in ways I couldn't have planned. Story plots took unexpected turns that no outline could have anticipated.

The story revealed itself only because I was willing to write – badly – first.

Around chapter five, I took two weeks away and came back to reread everything I'd written. What I found surprised me: a voice that was entirely my own. Not formed by trying to imitate others or attempting to be perfect – but one that emerged because I wasn't.

My lived experiences and background in theater were shaping the story and how I was telling it in ways that felt genuinely satisfying. And once I recognized that, the ideas started flowing more freely.

The book took a vastly different shape than I had tried to control in advance. Thank goodness it did!

The Process Is the Point

Our culture is obsessed with outcomes. With arriving. With finding the fastest, most efficient path to the goal.

But what if the goal is the process?

The novel I'm writing now is wonderfully imperfect. It will undoubtedly need an absurd amount of editing before it's anywhere close to publishable. But by embracing where I am – rather than where I think I should already be – I get to experience what it actually feels like to be a writer.

Not someday. Now.

Perfectionism tells us to wait until we're ready. Until we're good enough. Until the conditions are right and the outcome is guaranteed.

But that day will never come. It can't.

Because the only way to get good at something is to be willing to be bad at it first, and to keep going anyway.

So wherever you are, and whatever you've been putting off until you're ready:

You're ready enough. Start there.

Perfectionism be damned.

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If perfectionism is showing up in your own life – keeping you stuck, holding you back from something you actually want – this is exactly the kind of work coaching is built for. Schedule a session today.