For most of my life, I believed that if I could just do everything right, life would fall into place. I chased the perfect house, the perfect schedule, the perfect meals, the perfect version of myself…thought if I could just hold it all together flawlessly, it would make everyone happy — including me. I wanted to know how to stop being a perfectionist….I was a failed perfectionist!!!!
Life had other plans
When I became a wife at 18, I imagined I’d keep a picture-perfect home. But here is the thing, I have ADHD, so the attention to detail wasn’t there and the object permanence issues and doom piles were strong with me! I have worked very hard to get better at these things (and I have come so far)!
Then life threw curveballs — deployment, caregiving, kids, home-schooling, running a business. Suddenly, perfection wasn’t just hard — it was impossible. And I felt like I was failing.
There were days the dishes piled up, school lessons ran late, or dinner looked more like survival than a home-cooked spread. I’d hear that voice in my head whispering, “See? You’re not good enough.”
The shift didn’t happen overnight. But little by little, I started to see the truth. My kids didn’t care if the laundry was folded in neat little stacks — they cared if I sat down and listened to their stories. My husband didn’t need every meal to be a five-star production — he needed me to laugh with him at the end of the day. And I didn’t need to prove myself with spotless perfection — I needed to give myself grace.
The Truth
Listen, the truth is, I am not perfect at it. I am still really hard on myself. Recently, with all the hats I wear, I decided to hire a bi-weekly housekeeper to help me get all of the things that I miss, so I can choose connection over perfection. The fact is, I felt guilty at first, but, after a while I realized what her help offered.
It took years, and honestly, I’m still learning. But I’ve traded perfectionism for strength. Strength looks like:
- Saying “this is enough” when I’ve given all I can for today.
- Choosing connection over spotless floors.
- Allowing myself to be human, and teaching my kids that’s okay too.
Perfectionism is brittle — it shatters under pressure. Strength bends, breathes, and endures. And remember…a home is meant to be lived in, not just pictured.
I may not be perfect, but I am strong. And that’s the lesson I want my family — and myself — to remember.
