Are You Struggling with Perfectionism? Learn why you’ll never achieve it – and how to break free from the chase
Perfectionism has become one of the great afflictions of our time. Everything must be perfect. The body. The career. The family. The home. Our lives on Instagram. But here’s the truth nobody talks about: The perfect human being doesn’t exist. It never has. And the chase for this phantom keeps millions trapped in a hamster wheel of stress, exhaustion, and constant dissatisfaction.
In this article, I share how I was enslaved by perfectionism’s tyranny – until my body said stop. And I give you concrete tools to break free. Not theoretical ideas, but experiences from my own journey and from hundreds of people I’ve helped over more than twenty years as a life coach and shaman.
I was once proud of being a perfectionist
It was part of who I was. My identity. My strength.
Or so I thought.
Everything had to be 100 percent. Every report. Every presentation. Every project. I constantly strived to make things better and better. Even the greatest success was never good enough – because everything could always be even better. Even more polished. Even more refined.
It was never enough.
As a civil engineer and business leader, I had learned to optimize everything. Processes. Systems. Results. People. Myself. I treated life like an engineering project – something that could and should be fine-tuned to perfection.
I remember how I could sit until late at night working on a report that was already good enough. But “good enough” wasn’t in my vocabulary. I chased the perfect word choice, the perfect phrasing, the perfect structure. Hours and hours passed. My family waited. My body screamed for rest. But the perfectionist in me was deaf to everything except the demand for more.
In December 2003, the entire system collapsed.
I woke up brutally from my illusion about what life is about. Burned out. Destroyed. Unable to function. My body refused to obey. My head was fog. My energy was gone – not just reduced, but completely depleted.
The doctors talked about how I might never return to work. They discussed permanent disability.
It was the most painful awakening of my life.
But also the most important.
Society glamorizes perfectionism
Look around you. The message is everywhere. It presses into our consciousness from all directions.
We must have a perfect body. The facade must be impeccable with house, car, cabin by the sea, and happy children in matching clothes. Job and income define our social status. The higher and faster we climb the career ladder, the more valuable and perfect we are in society’s eyes.
Instagram shows us glittering snapshots from others’ seemingly perfect lives. Filtered images of perfect dinners, perfect vacations, perfect family moments. LinkedIn feeds us success stories from people who seem to master everything. Advertising tells us we’re just one thing away from being complete – and that thing can, of course, be purchased.
We compare our inner chaos with others’ outer facades. And we lose every time.
We live in a world where our own and others’ expectations lead us to merely exist. We rush from one thing to the next. Answering messages. Checking social media. Dropping off and picking up children. Working overtime. Exercising. Shopping. Cleaning. Organizing. Planning.
All of this is supported by a giant self-help industry that supplies us with tools to become even more productive, even more efficient, even more perfect. Books about morning routines. Apps for time management. Podcasts about optimization. Courses in productivity.
All promising to help us become better. More perfect. Closer to the ideal we chase.
But no one asks the fundamental question: Is this goal achievable at all? Or are we chasing a shadow that always moves away from us?
Perfectionism is a mirage
Here’s the paradox that changed everything for me: Perfectionism is an illusion. A mirage in the desert.
It’s striving toward something that doesn’t exist. Like chasing the horizon – no matter how fast you run, you never get closer. It always remains equally distant.
Think about it. Really think about it.
What is “perfect” actually? How do we measure it? What does it look like? Who defines it? Who has the authority to say something has reached perfection?
No one.
Because perfection is a concept without content. An empty box we fill with ever new demands. Every time we approach what we thought was perfect, the finish line moves.
Most writers know this dilemma intimately. The goal of writing the perfect book is probably the main reason most started books are never published. Because there is no perfect book. There never has been. Even the masterpieces – the ones we put on pedestals – were compromises. A period had to be placed somewhere. The author eventually had to say: “Enough.”
Even after twenty rounds of editing, you always find something that could be better. A sentence that could be tighter. A paragraph that could be clearer. A metaphor that doesn’t quite land.
When I wrote my first article in 2009, it took me over four weeks. Four weeks! I polished every sentence until it shone. Or so I thought. I stayed up nights fine-tuning. Replacing words. Moving paragraphs. Rewriting again and again.
When I read that article today, I’m not exactly proud of the result. It’s stiff. Overworked. You can almost feel the perfectionist’s anxiety between the lines.
The article you’re reading now? It took me a few hours.
The difference isn’t that I’ve only become better at writing. The difference is that I’ve understood what perfectionism really is – and how to avoid suffering from it. That insight has changed my life in ways I could barely imagine back when I lay burned out in bed wondering if I would ever function again.
If you look for perfection, you’ll never be content.
Leo Tolstoj
The price we pay
Striving toward the irrational goal of perfectionism makes millions of people frustrated, stressed, sick, and unhappy. This is not exaggeration. It’s not dramatization.
It’s documented reality (ref. 1, 2, 3, 4)
Research shows time and again that the chase for perfectionism leads to chronic negative stress. This type of stress – the persistent, never-resting pressure – does something to the body. It disrupts the hormonal system. It weakens the immune system. It increases the risk of cardiovascular disease. It opens the door to mental illnesses like depression and anxiety.
I know this in my body. Literally. My burnout wasn’t an accident. It was the logical consequence of years of perfectionist self-torment.
Look at the numbers. The use of antidepressants in the US has increased by 400 percent since the early 1990s. In 2012, 13 percent of the American population used antidepressants – nearly doubling in just a decade. And the numbers continue to rise.
Isn’t this paradoxical? We live in the most successful and richest period in human history. We have more of everything. More food. More comfort. More technology. More entertainment. More opportunities.
Yet we are more unhappy than ever in modern history.
Perhaps because we have more of the wrong things. And chase even more of what can never satisfy us. We fill our lives with things and achievements and labels – but the emptiness doesn’t disappear. It only grows.
Because perfectionism is ultimately about fear. Fear of not being good enough. Fear of rejection. Fear of being exposed as the imperfect beings we know deep down that we are.
And fear is a poor motivator for a good life.
Karōshi – when perfectionism kills
In Japan, they have their own word for it: Karōshi.
It means “death from overwork.”
Read that sentence again. Let it sink in.
They actually have a specific word for working yourself to death. A concept so common it needed its own name.
To be classified as karōshi, victims must have worked more than 100 hours of overtime the month before they died. Or 80 hours of overtime in two consecutive months in the last half year. Typical causes of death are heart attacks, strokes, and suicide (ref. 5).
Think about it. People literally work themselves to death. Not because of external coercion. But because of an inner conviction that they must. That it’s expected. That they’re not good enough if they don’t give everything – and then some.
Japan may be extreme. A typical work week there is often 60-90 hours. In this culture, there’s little concern for work-life balance. 70 percent of men and 60 percent of women aged 18-34 don’t have a relationship with a partner. Of these, 42 percent of men and 44 percent of women are virgins (ref. 6).
Not because they don’t want intimacy. But because they don’t have time. Don’t have energy. Don’t have room in a life filled to the brim with work and performance.
But Japan isn’t unique. Mexico tops the list for overwork, with the USA close behind. In China, over 600,000 people die every year due to overwork.
Six hundred thousand people. Every single year.
That’s an entire city disappearing. Year after year. Because people believe they must work harder, longer, more perfectly – and then they’ll finally reach their destination.
But that “destination” is a place that doesn’t exist. It’s the mirage in the desert. You can walk toward it your entire life without getting any closer.
The many faces of perfectionism
Most people I meet in my work as a life coach and shaman are in some way driven by the perfectionist chase. But it doesn’t have to look like the stereotypical career hunter in a suit working 80-hour weeks.
Perfectionism has many faces. It adapts. Camouflages itself. Sneaks into the most unexpected corners of life.
The stay-at-home parent who feels everything must be perfectly organized. All meals homemade. All activities planned. All children’s needs met immediately. Who feels like a failure whenever the house is messy, the children argue, or dinner becomes frozen pizza.
The student who studies until she collapses because she must have top grades. Because who is she if she’s not the best? What is she worth if she’s just “good”?
The doctor who never feels competent enough. Who lies awake at night worrying whether she made the right decision. Who reads research articles on vacation because she must stay current.
The artist who never shows her work because it’s not “finished.” Because it could always be better. Because the world doesn’t deserve to see something that isn’t perfect.
The retiree who can’t relax because there’s always something that should be done. The garden could be prettier. The house cleaner. The grandchildren should have had more time.
The unemployed person who feels worthless. Because her value was tied to the job, the title, the performance. Without that – who is she?
It doesn’t matter who you are or what you do. The perfectionist troll exists as an active program in the subconscious. It runs by itself. Automatically. Without us asking for it. Often without us even being aware of it.
My way out of the hamster wheel
For me, the way out of the hamster wheel started when I had no choice. My body made the choice for me.
After the burnout in 2003, I lay in bed for weeks. Unable to work. Unable to perform. Unable to be the perfect version of myself that I had built my entire identity around.
In that silence – the forced, unwanted silence – I had to ask myself the fundamental question:
Is life about functioning like a perfect machine, so I can be considered a valuable person by society’s standards?
Or is it about living? Truly living. With all my flaws and shortcomings. As the human being I actually am.
As I lay there, unable to work, unable to perform, something strange happened. Something I hadn’t expected.
The world went on without me.
Just as well.
Projects were completed by others. Meetings were held without me. Decisions were made. The company functioned.
I wasn’t indispensable. Nothing collapsed because I wasn’t there. All those perfect results I had worked myself half to death to achieve? They meant nothing anymore. They couldn’t help me now.
At first, this realization led to frustration, self-pity, and depression. If I wasn’t indispensable – who was I? If my achievements didn’t define me – what was I worth?
But eventually it opened up something completely new. A freedom I had never known. An opportunity to redefine myself. Not based on what I did, but on who I was.
Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it.
Salvador Dalí
I’ve never met a perfect human being
Have you?
I’ve met thousands of people through my work over the past twenty years. Rich and poor. Successful and unsuccessful by society’s measures. Young and old. From all corners of the world. Top executives and homeless people. Artists and engineers. Saints and sinners.
I have never met a single person who doesn’t make mistakes. Many mistakes. All the time.
The smartest people I know make mistakes. The most competent make mistakes. The most caring make mistakes. The most well-intentioned make mistakes.
Mistakes are part of being human. As natural as breathing.
Yet most of us spend enormous amounts of energy trying to avoid making mistakes. We’re afraid of making mistakes at work. Afraid of saying the wrong thing. Afraid of failing an exam. Afraid of not being good enough. Afraid of not having the right clothes. Afraid of asking stupid questions. Afraid of being asked questions we can’t answer.
Afraid of what people will think of us.
The fear continues endlessly. It feeds on itself. The more we fear mistakes, the more energy we spend avoiding them. The more energy we spend, the more tired we become. The more tired we become, the more mistakes we make. The more mistakes we make, the more we fear them.
It’s a spiral that never ends. Unless we choose to step off.
The paralyzing grip of performance anxiety
In my more than twenty years as a teacher, I’ve seen something sad repeat itself over and over again. A pattern that crushes dreams and holds back the potential of amazing people.
I meet talented people with enormous knowledge. They have everything it takes to succeed. Intelligence. Education. Experience. Passion. They burn for what they do.
But they get stopped along the way. Not by external obstacles. Not by lack of opportunities. But by their own performance anxiety.
What if I get a question I can’t answer? What will people think of me then? I’m a teacher – I should know everything! I’m an expert – I can’t show weakness!
This leads to an endless chase for more knowledge. Reading more books. Taking more courses. Getting more degrees. Collecting more certifications. Because when I have enough knowledge and am good enough – then I’ll start. Then I’ll share what I know.
The problem is that “enough” never comes.
Most will never feel perfect enough, no matter how much knowledge they gain. For every book they read, they discover ten new ones they should have read. For every course they take, they see five more they’re missing. For every exam they pass, new certifications appear that they should have.
So they wait. And wait. And life passes. And the world misses out on the gifts they could have given.
I’ve seen it hundreds of times. People with so much to give who never give it. Because they’re waiting to become perfect first.
But perfect never comes. Because perfect doesn’t exist.
I LOVE making mistakes
This sentence changed my life.
It might sound like a cliché. Like something you say at a motivational seminar before going back to normal life and continuing as before.
But for me, it was a revolution. A complete upheaval of how I saw myself and the world.
The first step out of perfectionism’s hamster wheel is to accept that making mistakes is completely natural. Not just natural – it’s necessary. It’s the very foundation of all learning, all growth, all development.
Why should you fight against your own nature? Why spend your life denying the most fundamental aspect of being human?
Why not play along with nature instead? Embrace it?
Imagine you want to become a skilled tennis player. Is that possible without making thousands of mistakes first? All those balls that hit the net. All those serves that land outside. All those returns that fail.
Is it possible to learn to play piano without hitting wrong keys? Without those jarring wrong notes that make you cringe?
Is it possible to learn to walk without falling? Without all those times you lost your balance as a child?
Of course not.
Mistakes are our greatest teacher. They show us where the limits are. They force us to think in new ways. They reveal what works and what doesn’t. They open doors we didn’t know existed.
Every mistake is a gift wrapped in discomfort. It tells you something important. It teaches you something new. It moves you forward – if you let it.
Without mistakes, there is no growth. No development. No transformation. Just stagnation. Just the same day over and over again.
The more you try to avoid making mistakes, the more opportunities you take from yourself. Opportunities to grow. To change what you don’t like in your life. To become happier. To live more fully.
The only way I know to become skilled at something is to throw yourself into it after learning the basics. Not wait until you’re perfect. Not wait until you know everything. But jump in and learn along the way.
It’s only when the teacher starts teaching students that she begins to understand what being a teacher really means. Through all the mistakes she makes. Through all the times she has to say “I don’t know.” Through all the moments where she feels inadequate.
It’s in those moments she grows.
The first step out of perfectionism’s hamster wheel is to accept that making mistakes is completely natural. Not just natural – it’s necessary. It’s the very foundation of all learning, all growth, all development.
Pål-Esben Wanvig
But are all mistakes really good?
This is an important question. A necessary question.
The answer is no. Not all mistakes are good in themselves.
Seeking mistakes for mistakes’ sake just puts you into another hamster wheel. Another form of destructiveness disguised as liberation.
The key is to learn from the mistakes we make. To use them as a compass. To let them show us the way forward – not by repeating them, but by understanding them.
Mistakes help us ask the right questions. They create awareness. They show us where knowledge is lacking and experience is needed. They point to blind spots we didn’t know we had.
But they only do this if we stop and reflect. If we ask ourselves: What can I learn from this? What is this mistake telling me? How can I use this experience to become better?
If you make the same mistake over and over again, it means you don’t want to learn. That you don’t take time to reflect. That you just keep running without looking back.
Then mistakes become frustration instead of freedom. Repetition instead of growth.
The wise person learns from their mistakes. The wiser person only makes them once. It’s not the mistakes themselves that have value – it’s the lessons we draw from them.
Nature’s wisdom
In my work as a shaman, I’ve learned much from nature. It’s my greatest teacher.
And nature never chases perfection.
Look at a tree. The branches don’t grow in perfect symmetry. The leaves aren’t identical. The bark has irregularities and cracks. And yet the tree is beautiful. Not despite its “flaws,” but because of them.
Look at a river. It doesn’t follow a straight line. It curves. Takes detours. Finds new paths when blocked. It doesn’t fight against the rocks – it flows around them.
Look at the seasons. Winter looks like death. The leaves fall. Everything withers. But it’s precisely this “death” that makes spring possible. The decay that nourishes new growth.
Nature understands something we’ve forgotten: That “mistakes” are a human construct. That what we call imperfection is life itself. That growth happens through trial and error, not through perfection.
When we chase perfection, we fight against life’s fundamental nature. We try to force the river to flow straight. We try to shape the tree into symmetry. We try to stop the seasons.
It’s a battle we can never win.
Four concrete steps to break free
Here are the tools that have helped me and many of my students escape perfectionism’s grip. They’re not theoretical ideas. They’re practices that work.
But they require that you actually do them. Not just read about them. Not just nod in recognition. But do them. Day after day. Week after week.
1. Accept that you are human
This sounds simple. It isn’t.
Deep acceptance that you are a fallible human being – not an infallible machine – is the first step. It’s not about giving up or lowering your ambitions. It’s about stopping the fight against your own nature.
You’re not made to be perfect. You’re made to be human. With everything that entails. With all the mistakes. With all the limitations. With all the strengths and weaknesses.
This acceptance isn’t passive. It’s not resignation. It’s an active embrace of who you actually are – not who you think you should be.
When you accept that mistakes are part of the package, you release your grip on fear. And when fear releases, enormous amounts of energy become available that you can use to actually live.
2. Start the day with a new mantra
Every morning, in front of the mirror, say this to yourself:
“I love being a fallible human being! I open my arms to the mistakes I will make today – for they are my greatest teachers! I’m curious about what my next mistake will be!”
Yes, it feels strange at first. Maybe even ridiculous. You’ll feel foolish. You’ll doubt whether this has any effect.
Do it anyway. For 90 days. See what happens.
This isn’t just positive words. It’s a reprogramming of the subconscious. You’re replacing the old program – “mistakes are dangerous, mistakes must be avoided, mistakes mean I’m not good enough” – with a new one: “mistakes are valuable, mistakes are learning, mistakes are growth.”
The subconscious learns through repetition. The old programs were installed through years of repetition. The new programs require the same.
90 days is a minimum. But already after a few weeks, you’ll notice changes. You’ll take things more lightly. React more gently to your own mistakes. Feel freer.
3. 80 percent is always good enough
Pareto’s principle states that we use 20 percent of our resources to achieve 80 percent of the result. The remaining 80 percent of resources goes to chasing the last 20 percent.
Read that again. Let it sink in.
80 percent of your effort goes to the last 20 percent of the result. Four-fifths of your energy is spent on the little finishing touches that almost no one notices.
The perfectionist always goes for 100 percent. They can’t stop until everything is perfect. Until every comma is in place. Until every detail is refined.
But someone who has stepped off the hamster wheel has understood something important: 80 percent is good enough. Not because we don’t care. Not because we’re lazy. But because there’s so much else valuable in life to use the remaining resources on.
Like living. Truly living.
Like being present with family. Like enjoying a sunset. Like having a conversation without checking the clock. Like breathing. Like just being.
The last 20 percent is almost never worth 80 percent of your resources. Especially not when the price is your health. Your relationships. Your joy.
4. Use interrupt handling when you fail
When you make a mistake and feel the negative emotions coming – the frustration, the shame, the self-criticism, the inner voice saying you’re incompetent – you have a choice.
You can let yourself be swept away by the current of emotions. Let the inner critic take over. Drown in self-blame.
Or you can use an interrupt handling technique to free yourself from the suffering state.
Here’s the process:
Stop. Literally. Stop what you’re doing. Take a step back – physically if possible, mentally at the very least.
Breathe deeply. Three deep breaths. Feel the air fill your lungs. Feel your shoulders drop. Feel your body calm down.
Acknowledge the feeling. Don’t fight against it. Don’t suppress it. Say to yourself: “I’m feeling frustration right now. That’s okay. It’s a natural response.”
Ask yourself the question: What can I learn from this? Not “why am I so stupid?” or “why do I always make mistakes?” But: What can I learn?
Then: How do I avoid making this mistake again? Not as self-punishment, but as constructive reflection.
This transforms mistakes from enemies to teachers. From problems to opportunities. From defeats to growth.
I love being a fallible human being – it means I accept my fundamental nature.
Pål-Esben Wanvig
The art of being human
It takes courage to allow yourself to be a human who lives. As opposed to the perfect machine society wants us to be.
It takes courage to say: “This is good enough.” To let go. To trust that the world won’t collapse if you’re not perfect.
But the reward is immense.
Before I burned out, I was like a machine. I thought I was indispensable. I had a need for control that said only I was capable of doing things well enough. That if I relaxed, everything would fall apart.
When I collapsed, I understood that this was a lie. A lie I had told myself so many times that I believed it was true.
I understood that happiness and meaning would never come as long as I defined my own worth by others’ measuring sticks. As long as I let society decide what success meant. As long as I lived my life based on what others expected.
Today I know that genuine happiness and meaning can only come from within. From knowing my own fundamental needs as a human being – and living them out in everyday life. Not others’ needs. Not society’s expectations. My needs.
This isn’t about selfishness. It’s about authenticity. About being true to who I am. About living from the inside out, not from the outside in.
Like this article, for example
I’ve spent the morning writing it. Now it’s lunchtime.
Could it be better? Of course. Absolutely. I could easily spend another week or two polishing every word. Refining every sentence. Restructuring every paragraph.
Would that give me more meaning and happiness? No.
Would it give you drastically more value reading it? No.
80 percent is and remains good enough.
The ideas I share are for inspiration to create a better life. They are seeds I plant. Now it’s up to you whether to water them. Whether to let them sprout. Whether to try this out or not.
I respect your free will to choose what’s right for you. I’m not here to persuade you. Only to share what has helped me and so many others.
I choose to use the remaining 80 percent of my resources to live – not to perfect the article. The rest of the day I’ll enjoy with my dear wife in our garden.
The sun is shining. The flowers are fragrant. The birds are singing. And I delight in the life I’m privileged to live.
An imperfect, messy, wonderfully human life.
“I want to be perfect” – that means believing that human nature is somehow nonsense.
Pål-Esben Wanvig
The deeper truth
Perfectionism isn’t really about being perfect. It’s about being loved.
Somewhere along the way, we learned that love must be earned. That we must perform to be worthy. That we must be good enough – perfect enough – to be accepted.
Maybe we learned it from parents who put conditions on their love. Maybe from a school system that ranked us by achievement. Maybe from a society that tells us we are what we do.
But this is a lie.
You are not what you do. You are not your achievements. You are not your results. You are not your title or your income or your house or your car.
You are a human being. A conscious being with infinite value that cannot be measured, weighed, or compared.
And you deserve love – from yourself and others – not because you’re perfect, but because you exist.
This truth is liberating. When you truly understand it – not just intellectually, but in your heart – perfectionism’s grip releases. Because you no longer need to prove anything. No longer need to earn love. No longer need to be perfect to be worthy.
References
1) Life Event, Stress and Illness http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3341916/
2) STRESS AND HEALTH: Psychological, Behavioral, and Biological Determinantshttp://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2568977/
3) 50 common signs and symptoms of stresshttp://www.stress.org/stress-effects/
4) Psychology Today: Why Stress Turns Into Depression https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/in-practice/201303/why-stress-turns-depression
5) BBC: Can you work yourself to death? http://www.bbc.com/capital/story/20160912-is-there-such-thing-as-death-from-overwork
6) Washington Post: Japan has a worrying number of virgins, government finds. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/worldviews/wp/2016/09/16/japan-has-a-worrying-number-of-virgins-government-finds/?utm_term=.e03c546a88d1
7) Center for Disease Control and Prevention. Antidepressant Use in Persons Aged 12 and Over: United States, 2005–2008: https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/databriefs/db76.htm
8) Percentage of Americans on Antidepressants Nearly Doubles: http://jama.jamanetwork.com/article.aspx?articleid=2467552#joi150128r28
9) The Rise of All-Purpose Antidepressants: http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/the-rise-of-all-purpose-antidepressants/
