Jessica Becker 8/14/19 Jessica Becker 8/14/19

Why I Stopped Chasing Perfect

Perfectionism nearly cost me my peace, my creativity, and my joy. Here's how I let it go—and what I found instead.

There was a time when my worth felt measured by how tightly I could hold it all together. My busyness was a marker of success and happiness.

The clean kitchen. The perfect lesson plan. The right words. The right mood. It was the mask I always wore.

If I could keep the outside world in order, maybe I could finally quiet the chaos inside.

For years, I lived like that—sprinting toward a version of “perfect” I could never quite reach. I didn’t realize how heavy that pursuit had become until my body, my spirit, and my joy began to unravel under the weight of it all.

Perfection Wore a Pretty Mask

It looked like discipline.
It sounded like excellence.
It felt like control.

But underneath it?

It was fear.

Fear of failure. Fear of being seen as too much or not enough.
Fear of softness. Of slowness. Of not being “worthy” unless I was constantly achieving or fixing something.

Perfectionism wasn’t about being my best—it was about being safe.

What It Cost Me

I lost time. Creativity. Peace.
I abandoned myself for the approval of others.
I said “yes” when I meant “no.” I performed when I really needed rest.

And I carried the belief that if I could just get it right—the career, the relationship, the body, the home—I’d finally feel whole.

But I never did.

Because perfection isn't a finish line. It's a trap.

The Moment I Let Go

My turning point wasn’t one dramatic moment.
It was a quiet decision I made in the stillness of my own truth:

“I don’t want to perform anymore. I want to be.”

Letting go wasn’t easy. I grieved the version of me who tried so hard to be “enough.”

But in releasing her, I found someone more powerful:
the me who creates for joy, not approval.
the me who rests without guilt.
the me who makes art from the mess.

What I Found Instead

Grace.
Presence.
Space to breathe.

Ideas that weren’t born out of pressure, but of soul.

I found beauty in imperfection—in laughter through tears, in messy notebooks, in undone dishes and deep conversations.

I found truth in simplicity. Wholeness in creativity.

What Creatively Rooted Means Now

Being creatively rooted means:

Creating from truth, not fear
Living aligned, not polished
Being deeply grounded in who I am—not who I thought I had to be

It’s not about chasing perfect anymore.
It’s about returning—to myself, to my voice, to what matters most.

If You’re Tired of Holding It All Together…

You’re not alone.
And you don’t have to keep performing.

This space—this blog—is for the beautifully unfinished, the soulfully curious, the woman finding her way back to herself.

I hope you stay awhile.