Perfectionism has ruined my life in a lot of ways. I used to think it was my saving grace, that it made me more careful and methodical when it came to things. However, it’s only turned me more hesitant and precious about my work, when now is supposed to be the time when I share, share, share. I’m sad to acknowledge that perfectionism has put me in this subconscious mindset where I believe that I’m not deserving of success, that I need to wait long enough until I become great.
But how long is long enough? I think that if I continue to wait, I’ll always be convinced that I’m not great enough yet or that there is someone more deserving than me. That mindset has entwined me closely with a fear of failure. I used to be afraid of that (I still am in ways), but I’m trying not to hold everything with such fragility. I’ve come to the realization that if I don’t start sharing a bit of my work, then I might never reach the kind of success and stability that I’ve always dreamed for a writing career. (And damn it, I want so badly to be a published writer.)
So I’m opting out of perfectionism. I’m going to let the messiness of my progress show.