I once read something that stayed with me ever since: 

“Mathematically, perfection exists only at the zero point - the “God point.” In order for anything to exist in this world, it must be slightly off. In essence, perfection, in its purest form, is nonexistence. To exist at all requires imperfection.”

This truth softened something in me.

It reminded me that being human is, by nature, being incomplete. Flawed. Messy. Alive.

And yet, so many of us were raised in environments where love was conditional. Where we had to earn affection, attention, safety. Where we were praised when we performed, not when we simply existed. 

So we internalized the belief: “If I am perfect, I will be loved. If I am perfect, I will be safe.”

Perfectionism became not a standard, but a survival strategy. Something you somehow can control, in a world where everything else is out of your hands.

Perfection became a mask we wore to be accepted.

A performance we repeated to feel worthy.

A shield we held up to protect our most tender, vulnerable self.

And in today’s world, where doing more, achieving more, optimizing every moment is seen as success, it’s easy to get lost. To confuse worth with productivity. To chase the illusion that if we could just fix one more thing about ourselves, we’ll finally feel whole.

But the truth is: this chase never ends.

And the cost is high: exhaustion, self-doubt, chronic stress, disconnection from our true selves.

Its a setup for failure sabotaging our peace and happiness. 

And maybe confirming a deeper belief that we are not worthy of happiness.

But this strategy, very efficient at some point in our childhood for our survival, in our adult life will not work endlessly. Eventually, something breaks. A burnout. A breakdown. A moment when the weight becomes too much.

And though it feels like falling apart, it’s often the first opening toward healing.

Because that breaking point is not your failure. It’s your heart saying: “I can’t keep living like this. There must be another way.”

And there is.

It’s the path of self-awareness.

Of turning inward and asking: “Whose voice is this in my head, always demanding more? Whose love did I learn I had to earn?”

It’s the path of unlearning the lie that you must be perfect to be worthy.

And slowly, so slowly, it becomes the path of self-compassion.

Of whispering to the parts of you that tried so hard: “You don’t have to perform anymore. You were always worthy. You’re allowed to rest. You’re allowed to be enough as you are.”

This isn’t easy work. But it’s sacred.

And it’s the only kind of healing that frees you, not just to exist, but to live. Fully. 

With care and presence, 🤍

Aniela

photo: Pinterest