How Perfectionism Holds Us Back
Hi, my name is Molly and I am a perfectionist.
More specifically, I am a recovering perfectionist.
I made some calligraphy art to remind me that perfection itself is an illusion. Here it is:
Hand-lettered art by Molly Chidsey.
This is my story of learning—and unlearning—perfectionism, and how I've learned to recognize when the pursuit of perfection gets in the way of creativity, meaningful work, and making change.
Setting the stage for perfection
Me, age 14, in my “All Around The World” dance costume, designed by my mom, Diane Chidsey Design. Circa 1991.
When I was four years old, I started taking dance classes. Ballet, tap, and jazz. I loved it, and my enthusiasm earned me a position in the front row during dance recital performances.
When I reached middle school, my dance coach became very serious. Dance classes were no longer fun, they were work. At 13, I joined her performing dance company.
Perfection was the goal of every performance, but I didn’t understand that at the time. Instead, I felt shame and a sense of inadequacy when I couldn’t remember steps for new routines.
When I missed a few weeks of rehearsals due to illness, I could barely keep up with my newest assignment; a duet. The routine included lifts, complex and dangerous over-the-head moves. I would run as fast as I could toward my dance partner then he would lift me over his head. Yes, like in Dirty Dancing.
I was stuck in my head about my imperfection, and I felt a sense of anxiety and panic every time we practiced the lift. My coach was so unhappy with me, and she criticized my every move.
I performed the piece, gritting my teeth through my smile. A year later, I quit the dance company, but continued to dance in high school musicals and with the marching band.
But the damage was done. As a result of this experience, I internalized this lesson: less than perfect = failure.
It has taken me the past 35 years to unlearn this mental habit. Now I use this experience to recognize when imperfection is blocking my creativity.
How perfection blocks creativity
I teach drawing, watercolor, and illustration to adults through in-person workshops. I begin each class by addressing the doubts I know are swirling in my students’ minds.
For example:
“I am not good enough for this.”
“I can’t make art, I am too [fill in the blank]. “
“Nobody will like what I make.”
“I will embarrass myself.”
“I can’t draw, so why should I paint?”
I have heard all of these comments and more. They are mean statements we would never say to another person, but we say them to ourselves all the time. I can relate.
I suggest that when students hear that nagging perfectionist voice in their heads during class or when they are practicing at home, just say “Thanks, but no thanks.” This gentle rebuke helps to remind ourselves that we are here to learn new skills, to play, have fun, and create something new.
When perfection gets in the way of meaningful change
I've seen the same perfectionist tendencies show up far beyond the art studio. In my work as a project manager and coach, I know how easy it is to get stuck trying to develop the perfect idea, anticipate every possible challenge, or create a flawless plan before taking the first step.
But meaningful change rarely happens that way.
When we're trying to create something new—whether it's a piece of artwork, a new program, or a different way of doing things—we're navigating uncertainty. We can't possibly know everything before we begin.
One of the principles I bring to my coaching practice is that planning should create possibilities, not limit them. We start by imagining what we're trying to create, getting clear on our values and priorities, and identifying a workable path forward. Then we give ourselves permission to learn and adapt along the way.
Progress doesn't require perfection. It requires a willingness to begin.
Humans Making Art ≠ Perfect
Skeptics and hyper-realism enthusiasts may not agree with me on this. If a client wanted a perfect image, they could take a photo or buy one from a talented photographer. They could use Ai to generate an image (never mind that the image is compiled from original artwork from artists around the world).
When I create illustrations, calligraphy, or watercolor art for myself or for a client, I am proud of the imperfections visible in the final product. Those “tool marks” are proof that this piece was made by a human, flaws and all.
Since I can’t be anything other than human, my art will be human as well. Which is to say, it will be imperfect. And also inherently beautiful.
Ready to move forward, imperfections and all?
You don't need a perfect plan to make meaningful change. Through my coaching program, I help changemakers clarify their vision, sort through competing priorities, and find practical ways to bring their ideas to life.
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