When Perfect Finally Became a Myth

I spent most of my childhood, teens, and early twenties believing there was a finish line called perfect. A place where I’d finally feel “enough,” where my brain would stop offering uninvited commentary.

Spoiler: the finish line is fictional. I’d been training for a race no one had ever actually won.

It wasn’t until my mid-twenties, sitting across from a psychologist who delivered one of the most quietly revolutionary sentences of my life, that everything shifted:

“Perfect doesn't exist.”

At first, I honestly thought she must have misread the rules. “No perfect? At all? Ever?” My internal world just… stalled. Up until that moment, I believed perfection was the only acceptable standard, so every single day felt like a failure, because every single day, I wasn’t perfect.

That conversation didn’t instantly magic away my perfectionism, but it cracked the armour. It created space for compassion and curiosity. I will always be grateful for that therapist’s honesty, because it changed the entire trajectory of how I understand myself and life now.

The Plot Twist in My Thirties: Failure… and My Name on a Book

You’d think once perfectionism has been exposed as a myth, you’d be done with it - like discovering Father Christmas isn’t real and moving on, but no, perfectionism is sneakier than that.

In my thirties, I realised I still had more work to do around the word failure. I’d talk about perfectionism, I’d support children and young people through the reality of it… but I couldn’t even say the word “fail” without feeling a little odd inside.

One day, I saw the podcaster and author Elizabeth Day’s book, How to Fail...and I cried.

Not because of the content (I hadn’t read a page yet!) but because seeing my name next to the word fail, hit some deep, unhealed corner of my brain. It wasn’t even me on the cover, but my nervous system didn’t care; it just grabbed the fire alarm and yanked. I have to say, Elizabeth's podcast of the same name as the book has become a regular part of my life and definitely supported my journey.

It has taken me until this year, yes, this year, to talk about failing without welling up or feeling wobbly inside. That’s how deep perfectionism can run. It’s not about high standards; it’s about the fear of what happens if you don’t meet them.

This journey hasn’t been linear or neat, but the beauty of it is that it’s a journey we can take with others. The more we talk openly about messing up, falling short, trying again, and learning as we go, the easier it becomes to loosen perfectionism’s grip.

The Bigger Picture: Perfectionism and Young People Today

In 2019, Professor Roz Shafran explored this theme on an ACAMH podcast, discussing mental health, innovation, and her team’s work at Great Ormond Street Hospital.

She highlighted the rise of dysfunctional perfectionism, the kind that isn’t about healthy ambition, but about anxiety, fear, pressure, and the belief that anything less than flawless is unacceptable. She examined why young people may be more vulnerable today, especially within academic intensity, social comparison culture, and the experiences of neurodivergent children and teens.

Her work reinforces something I feel deeply: we need environments that help young people recognise their value before perfectionism convinces them they’re not enough.

Why This Connects So Deeply With Collectively Diverse

This is exactly why Collectively Diverse exists.

Every piece of our work, from training to consultancy to community projects, is centred on creating environments where people feel safe enough to be themselves, supported enough to explore, and valued enough to grow.

We focus on:

Inclusive, realistic expectations that encourage growth over perfection.

A strengths-led approach, especially for neurodivergent individuals who may have spent years feeling “wrong” for being different.

Workshops and training that help schools, communities, and organisations understand the impact of pressure, comparison, and perfectionism on mental health.

Cultivating psychologically safe spaces where mistakes aren’t framed as evidence of inadequacy but as part of the natural process of learning.

Our aim isn’t to create perfect students, perfect teachers, perfect leaders, or perfect systems.

Our aim is to help people feel human, with all the brilliance, complexity, and occasional chaos that involves.

So, What’s the Takeaway?

If perfectionism has been following you around like a very persistent shadow, this is your reminder:

Perfect doesn’t exist.

Failure doesn’t define you.

...and learning to embrace your beautifully imperfect self is an act of courage, not defeat.

If my younger self could see me now, talking about failing without dissolving into emotional origami, she’d be amazed, and very relieved

Self-discovery takes time. Healing takes time. Unlearning takes time, but we don’t have to do any of it alone.

At Collectively Diverse, we’re building communities, conversations, and training that champion real people, real journeys, and real growth, not spotless performance.

If you’d like to explore this more, whether for yourself, your team, or your organisation, I’d love to chat. Let’s keep finding ways to support each other, share our stories, and make room for all the imperfect brilliance we bring into the world.