You’ve rewritten the same email four times.
It’s not even that important. And you know that.
Still, you reread it. Change one word. Read it again. Decide the original word was better. Change it back.
At some point you’re staring at an email nobody else is going to read twice, wondering whether “circle back” sounds too corporate.
Why do we do this?
And it’s not only emails.
It’s the post sitting in drafts because you can’t quite get the caption right.
The project you keep researching instead of starting.
The workout plan you’ll begin once you figure out the best way to do it.
The idea you haven’t told anyone about because it still needs work.
Sometimes we call this having high standards.
And listen, I like high standards.
I care about doing things well. I don’t think the answer is to stop caring, throw something together and call it personal growth.
But I’ve had to ask myself a harder question:
At what point does wanting to do something well become the reason I don’t do it at all?
Because I’ve lived there too.
If I couldn’t do something the way I pictured it, I’d wait.
If I couldn’t be consistent with the whole plan, starting small barely felt worth it.
If something I created didn’t feel ready, I’d keep working on it long after “better” had turned into “different.”
And perfectionism can hide really well inside that.
It doesn’t always feel like fear.
Sometimes it feels responsible.
I just care about doing a good job.
Sometimes that’s true.
But sometimes I think what I really want is protection.
If I make it good enough before anyone sees it, maybe nobody can criticize it.
If I know enough before I start, maybe I won’t make the wrong choice.
If I wait until I’m sure I can follow through perfectly, maybe I won’t have to feel like I failed again.
Perfect starts to sound less like a standard and more like insurance.
Except it’s terrible insurance because it can’t actually guarantee any of those things.
You can prepare and still get something wrong.
You can create something you’re proud of and someone won’t like it.
You can start with the perfect plan and life will absolutely ignore it.
And you can be faithful to something without executing it flawlessly.
That last one has become especially important to me.
Philippians 1:6 says that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.
For years, I think I read verses like that and somehow still behaved as though completion depended entirely on me getting every step right.
But what if faithfulness and flawlessness were never the same thing?
What if my job is to show up for the part that’s mine today?
Write the email.
Start the thing.
Take the step.
Do it with care.
Learn what I couldn’t know before I began.
Then come back tomorrow.
That has changed how I think about consistency too.
I used to make consistency another form of perfection.
Ten perfect days counted.
Nine good days and one bad one?
Well, clearly the entire thing was ruined.
Which makes absolutely no sense when I say it out loud.
Real consistency has room for being human.
It has room for the day that doesn’t go according to plan.
The imperfect attempt.
The thing you learn after doing it wrong.
The week where you show up differently than you intended.
Maybe that’s why perfectionism can keep us stuck for so long.
It convinces us that imperfect action is evidence we weren’t ready.
But sometimes imperfect action is how we become ready.
You learn by sending.
By trying.
By showing up.
By getting information you couldn’t get while sitting on the sidelines perfecting the plan.
Maybe there’s something you’ve been trying to get exactly right before you let yourself begin.
You don’t have to lower your standards.
Maybe just ask what the standard actually is.
Does this need to be excellent?
Does it need more work?
Or am I asking it to be so perfect that I never have to feel exposed while learning?
Those are different things.
Faithfulness doesn’t mean doing something carelessly.
It means I can do my part with care without requiring myself to control every part that comes after it.
And sometimes the faithful thing isn’t getting it exactly right.
Sometimes it’s finally pressing send.
Want to keep going with this conversation?
🎧 Listen to Episode 20: Why God Values Faithfulness More Than Perfection →