I can’t share this yet. I need it to be perfect.
How many times have you said this to yourself?
You get right there.
Wow. This looks really good.
But let me read it one time before I…
And that’s when it happens. Perfectionism rears its ugly head and kills your nearly-shipped art.
You go to work tweaking one thing. And then another. And each step of the way, you realize you’re wandering farther and farther from the truth.
Soon, it’s dead. Flatlined.
It just wasn’t perfect enough.
Well, I’m calling your haughty perfectionism out for the coward it is.
Look at it standing there with its nose up in the air sipping on a Perrier and eating crumpets.
It’s all a ruse.
Perfectionism is really good at pretending to be sophisticated and highbrow when it’s actually scared sh*tless.
Cut the nonsense, Perfectionism. What have you ever done for the world except kill dreams and inhibit good art from being born?
You’re scared. I can see it in your eyes. But you hide your fear behind a curtain of snobbery and authority. You place expectations that are impossible to meet so you can get away with not shipping one more day. You make us feel small.
Listen here, Perfectionism. We get it now. You’re a frightened soul shipwrecked on a vast sea of edits and false starts. There’s no way we can ever satisfy you. We’re tired of the hamster wheel you’ve thrown us in. So we’re going to distance ourselves from you.
Perfectionism, we need our space. We need to be free of your grip so we can put our work out there, as ugly as it may be. We know we’ll likely always hear your echo, somewhere deep in the recesses of our minds. You’ll blare out your warnings at our most critical creative moments, telling us not to share our work. Or to even start.
Look to us granting you a nod. Maybe a wink. Followed by the biggest, most extended middle finger you’ve ever seen.
And then we’ll leap. We’ll defy you every time. We’ll share our imperfect work, because contrary to your word, we like some flaws here and there, and so does our audience.
The stutters, brushstrokes, and imperfect grammar tell us there’s a person behind the art. It’s a clear sign of a heartbeat driving the work.
That’s what makes us human creators. Not CGI’d bots. Perfectly imperfect in the most incredible, subtle ways.