When Perfection Silences You: Choosing Progress Instead.

For too long, I let perfection silence me. Today, I choose progress. I choose to tell the stories that have lived inside me—raw, unfinished, and real.

There Are Stories I’ve Never Told

Not because I didn’t believe in them, but because I was waiting for them to be perfect.

As a child, I was an avid reader and a passionate storyteller. I had a way of weaving narratives that pulled my classmates and friends in completely. But as I grew older, something shifted. I stopped believing my stories were enough.

I started chasing perfection—and that pursuit slowly, but surely, shut me down.

Perfectionism: The Silent Thief

I didn’t post on this blog for nearly a year. Life happened, yes, but the truth is… perfectionism had me stuck.

A year after launching this blog, I reached out to a few readers for feedback. I even floated the idea of a podcast—and the response was overwhelmingly positive.

People believed in what I had to say.

But I didn’t.

The few criticisms I received became louder than all the praise. So I waited. For the right time. For the right words. For the “perfect” launch.

In the meantime:

• The podcast equipment I bought collected dust.
• The artwork and intro soundbites I paid for sat unused on my laptop.
• My carefully curated stories were locked away in my drafts folder.

All because I wanted it to be just right.

The Perfect Moment Never Came

That’s the painful truth.

Perfection sounds noble, doesn’t it? I told myself I was just being careful. That I had high standards. That when I finally shared my work, it would speak for itself.

But that “perfect” version of my vision kept shifting. It was always out of reach.

Holding myself to that unreachable standard:

• Killed my momentum
• Made me second-guess everything
• Silenced me

I left so many drafts unfinished. I abandoned ideas that once set my soul on fire. And I convinced myself that if it wasn’t perfect, no one would take me seriously.

What Perfectionism Really Cost Me

In truth, perfection didn’t elevate my work—it stole from me.

It stole my time.

It stole my confidence.

And maybe worst of all—it stole the opportunity for someone to hear the exact words they needed… just as they were.

Not packaged. Not polished. Just honest. And I didn’t give them that.

The Wake-Up Call

A few months ago, I had a medical procedure. During recovery, I had time—lots of it—to reflect. I revisited all the things I had once been excited about and asked myself:

Why didn’t I follow through?

And honestly? I didn’t have a real answer. Just a bunch of fear-driven excuses hidden under the label of perfection.

Here’s the kicker:

Even if you had asked me what “perfect” looked like… I couldn’t have told you.

It didn’t exist.

That’s when it hit me—perfection was the block. It was the wall keeping me from my flow, my progress, and my truth.

Returning to My “Why”

So, I went back to the beginning.

To why I started this blog in the first place.

It felt like the right time to re-brand and refocus.

Earlier this year, I outsourced a new logo on Fiverr. I hated it—but I used it anyway. The more I looked at the site, the more it felt misaligned. The aesthetics didn’t match what I had in mind.

Last month, I decided to give it another go—this time, by myself.

At first, I fell into the same trap: I expected perfection on day one. When that didn’t happen, I wanted to stop and “go learn everything first.” But I paused.

Instead, I did what I could.

I gave myself permission to learn—imperfectly.

I allowed space for mistakes.

And in those messy, frustrating moments, I discovered something powerful:

Progress is louder than perfection.

What I’ve Learned

I’m not the most patient person—especially in areas where I feel vulnerable. But even in small chunks, I found I could learn and act immediately.

I also learned this:

Imperfect action will always teach you more than perfect hesitation ever could.

And here’s something I wish I had embraced sooner: Perfection is relative.

I didn’t even have a clear benchmark for what I was striving for.

So these posts?

They’re not perfect.

They’re real.

They’re me—putting words to my lived experiences. Not to impress or to showcase some dramatic turning point, but to be honest.

From Stillness Came Clarity

Last week, I shared how lying in bed reading poorly written fiction somehow brought me comfort and healing.

This week? I want to highlight how boredom and quiet reflection during recovery helped me recognise what was truly holding me back.

That stillness led to honest journaling.

Journaling led to clarity.

Clarity led to imperfect, but freeing, action.

A Question for You

So now I turn the lens to you:

What would you say to the version of yourself who’s afraid to start because things aren’t perfectly aligned?

What would you say to a sister who’s afraid she won’t get it right?

Here’s what I would say:

You don’t have to have it all figured out to begin.

You just have to start.

A Work in Progress—and Proud of It

As you navigate this blog, you’ll notice some pages are still in progress. Some are placeholders. Others are raw beginnings of bigger ideas.

And that’s okay.

Because I’m showing up.

I’m making progress.

And that’s good enough for me.

This Week’s Gentle Push

Start that thing you’ve been putting off.

Start it messy.

Start it real.

Start it as you.

Because the world doesn’t need a polished, curated version of you.

It needs the real you.

The you with the shaky voice, the unfinished ideas, the quiet bravery.

Perfection won’t get you there.

Progress will.

Thank You

Thank you for taking the time to read, share, and engage.

Let’s keep showing up for ourselves—and for each other.

Let’s keep changing the world, one shared experience at a time.