This idea of perfection is a myth, and the simple truth is that we are meant to be whole and not perfect. This includes both the joy of successes and the pain of failures. And the only way we learn and grow is through both differing experiences.

Do I think I’m Hemingway’s prodigal son or Steinbeck’s long lost disciple? No, the reality is that I’m using perfectionism as a way to hide behind my fears and insecurities. Since I was thirteen, I’ve had to fend for myself and put up shields to protect myself from failing. To fail was not only a sin but very often it lead to me feeling ashamed.