Perfectionism and a Lesson from Grade 9 Art Class

We all know her.
The loud voice in our head that bullies us into inaction. The one that tells us we’re not good enough and convinces us not to take the steps we were actually excited about. If you’re Type A, you’ve probably befriended her at some point… perfectionism.

This week, I’ve been challenging myself with different solo dates to feel more connected to myself, and one of those things happened to be pottery. I know, you’re thinking, that sounds fun! And it was. But a few years ago? I would have DREADed this… here’s why.

Growing up, I was surrounded by not one, but three talented artists: my mom and my two sisters. They could paint something beautiful in minutes….something that would take me hours. So in Grade 9, I enrolled in art as an elective. And when I tell you it stressed me out, I’m not exaggerating.

I remember our first assignment vividly. I had a vision in my head, I knew exactly what I wanted to create, but the moment my pencil touched paper, it was a disaster. I erased, redrew, ripped up the paper, cried, and repeated. Eventually, my mom helped me just so I could sleep that night. Two days later, I got my grade… and promptly dropped the class (no joke).

Art had no right answer. And that was the problem.

I was good at math, science, and English because there was something to solve, something to prove. A formula. A controlled variable. Art took that control away and once I lost it, I shut down. Looking back, I realize the same thing has shown up in my life in so many ways.

We spend so much time trying to make everything perfect before we even start.

We wait to wear the bikini until our bodies feel “perfect.”
We tweak our website for the hundredth time before launching.
We rehearse presentations, Pilates sequences, or yoga flows until every word and movement feels flawless.

And while we’re waiting, life keeps moving.

Perfectionism makes life harder, more stressful, and robs us of the ability to actually enjoy what we’re doing.

And it’s not entirely our fault. We live in a world that only shows the curated, perfected versions of life: beauty, homes, lifestyles… everything. Whatever happened to the show just for laughs and sharing our failures in a laughable way?

Letting go of control is uncomfortable. But it’s also freeing.

How do we let go of perfectionism and live differently?

It’s been a long time since Grade 9, and I’m grateful to say I’m in a place where I can now embrace the process without needing perfection. That doesn’t mean that perfectionism disappears, it still delays me from posting on socials, makes me nervous teaching pilates, and sometimes I get caught up in over-editing things longer than necessary.

But what’s helped the most is shifting my mindset: embracing learning, being realistic, and accepting that I can’t be perfect at something I just started.

The second I allowed myself to focus on learning instead of perfection, I created space to be present. I gave my nervous system the signal: It’s okay. You’re fine if you mess up. Failure became part of the process, like kids learning to walk. Imagine if they gave up after the first fall!

Learning to let go of perfect outcomes has also changed how I experience my life.

I’m more present. I laugh at my mistakes. I take myself less seriously. I try new things without needing to know exactly where they’ll lead. I am comfortable at messing up on the job. I feel freedom and peace instead of guilting myself over what went wrong.

Most importantly, I’ve learned that I am enough.

In a world obsessed with perfection, I think it’s more important than ever to normalize failure, to embrace our flaws, and jump into new things knowing they won’t be perfect. Life was never going to flow flawlessly, and maybe, that was the real lesson art class was meant to teach me.

So if you’re feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure of your next step, maybe try something new. Something messy. Something you’re not “good” at yet.

Let go of perfection. Life is more peaceful when you do.

And if art isn’t your thing? Take an art class anyway. It’s the perfect place to start.

(My only request: if you do, please take a photo of your masterpiece so we can admire it… or laugh at it together.)

Remember: You. Are. Enough.

Xo,
Cass

P.S. (If you spot a spelling mistake, even with spellcheck, let’s call it character… it was written from the heart, not perfection)