2 MONTHS AGO • 2 MIN READ

The Lie Behind My Perfectionism

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Hidden Patterns

We don't usually struggle with what we can see. We struggle with the patterns running underneath — the ones we picked up so early we mistake them for who we are. Every Saturday, a 5-minute read on how I find mine.

The Lie Behind My Perfectionism

A symptom of my lack of self-acceptance...

Alex Hormozi (Business Influencer) has a line about starting something new:

"Embrace the cringe. You will suck, and it will be embarrassing."

I've been sitting with that, because now that I'm starting a podcast, I can hear my inner critic getting loud.

It wants every piece to be perfect.

It doesn't want me to suck.

It doesn't want me to be embarrassed.


I thought it was "High Standards"

I just care about doing things right.

But those "high standards" had me spending days on a video less than a minute long.

Obsessing over a single post that maybe a few friends would ever see.

That's not high standards.

That's something else.


The Critic is a Symptom

The perfectionism's intentions are good.

It's trying to protect me.

From sucking.

From being judged.

From rejection.

But when I zoom out, I see what it's really pointing at.

The perfectionism isn't the problem.

It's a symptom.


Perfectionism only shows up when there's a threat

Here's the belief I was living under without ever saying out loud:

The absence of perfectionism is danger.

I thought the perfectionism was just "High Standards".
But really it was revealing that some part of me believed I needed protection from danger.

That I'm not safe.

That anything less than perfect puts me at risk.

Perfectionism was never focused on quality.
It was focused on protection from danger.
It's a threat response...


Connecting the dots

So here's the chain I realized:

I wanted to protect myself from danger — specifically, from rejection.

Subconsciously, I thought "be perfect, and you are safe".

But chasing that perfection became its own rejection.
Every draft that wasn't good enough, every post I picked apart — I was rejecting myself, over and over, in the name of avoiding rejection from others.

And that's the twist:

The real danger was never rejection from other people.

It was the rejection happening inside me in a reaction to feeling unsafe.

The perfectionism was never the root.
It was armor I placed on top of the wound.
And you only wear armor when when you believe there is danger.


Letting it Rest

None of what I make will be perfect.
There's no measurement for perfect.
It isn't even a quality the work needs — it's just what my ego reaches for when the acceptance inside is missing.

So when I see myself wanting to strive for perfection because I feel unsafe, I simply sit with the feeling and allow it to be safe in my body.

If I am safe or not I let the feeling of unsafe be safe in my body without me trying to fix, hide or cover up.

I'm safe with me here.

With the acceptance, the perfectionism finally gets to rest and the weight that of "the cringe" that Alex Hormozi was talking about becomes much lighter.


A thought for this week: Where is your inner critic the loudest?
And what might it be trying to protect you from?

I'd love to hear your response. ❤️

Have a great Saturday!

— Tom

P.S. — I'm building the room I wish I'd had.

For a while now I've wanted a space for people doing this exact work — building something real without letting the inner critic, the perfectionism, or the burnout run the show.

So I made one. It's called Build On Purpose, Not Burnout — weekly grounding calls, workshops, and a community of givers and creators figuring this out together.

Right now I'm hand-picking the first founding members, and I want the right people in early.

If that's you, reply to this email with "I'm in" and I'll send you the details. I'm reading every response personally.

Hidden Patterns

We don't usually struggle with what we can see. We struggle with the patterns running underneath — the ones we picked up so early we mistake them for who we are. Every Saturday, a 5-minute read on how I find mine.