Why Perfectionists Never Feel Good Enough
- Brainz Magazine
- 40 minutes ago
- 7 min read
Anne-Catherine Bédard is a PhD chemist, abstract artist, and the founder of Labcoat and Leggings. Author of numerous scientific papers and an empowering coloring book series, she bridges science and creativity to inspire confidence, authenticity, and self-expression.
Perfectionists often chase flawless results, yet still feel like they’re never enough. From childhood praise to professional pressure, perfectionism quietly shapes our nervous system, creativity, and sense of worth. Discover the hidden costs of control, the science behind self-criticism, and why learning to embrace imperfection is the key to authentic freedom.
Be careful. Don’t make a mess. Stay inside the lines. Wipe that up. Hold it properly. Don’t mix those colors. Use the right side of the paper. Good. That’s neat.
The early lessons that shape us
The messages arrive early and softly, wrapped in care and expectation. They’re not meant to harm, they’re meant to help us fit in, to teach us responsibility. But beneath them lives a subtler lesson, that mess equals mistake, and mistake equals failure. As children, we quickly learn that neatness earns praise and chaos earns correction. Our drawings are admired when they’re symmetrical, our handwriting when it’s small and tidy. We internalize that control brings approval, and soon, perfectionism roots itself not in ambition, but in survival.
The adolescent reinforcement
As we grow, the stakes rise. The red pen replaces the gentle correction, and good grades become the currency of worth. Mistakes are no longer learning opportunities, they are liabilities. The classroom, once a playground of curiosity, becomes a scoreboard. We learn to chase gold stars instead of genuine understanding, to edit ourselves before we even try.
By adolescence, we have become experts at curating ourselves. We polish our words, our faces, our social feeds. We learn to equate composure with competence and (over)achievement with safety. We discover that approval feels like belonging, and we will do anything to keep it. The messier parts of us, the uncertain, emotional, or creative ones, get tucked away behind polished surfaces.
The professional perfectionist
Then, for those of us who enter high-performance fields, especially in science and technology, the lesson deepens. Here, precision is not just valued, it is essential. Control is the currency of credibility. A single variable can ruin an experiment. A single mistake can dismantle months of work. So, we learn to tighten every system, every word, every thought.
Somewhere between the data points and the deadlines, that child who once loved to explore quietly disappears. Curiosity, which once drove discovery, is replaced by fear. Fear of being wrong, of being judged, of not being enough. The irony is painful. The very traits that made us fall in love with science, wonder, experimentation, and the courage to test the unknown are the same ones that perfectionism quietly takes away. Yet this pattern runs deeper than the lab or the workplace. It is woven into our nervous system, shaping how we process reward, stress, and self-worth.
The neuroscience of perfectionism
Perfectionism isn’t a personality flaw or an aesthetic preference. It’s a learned safety strategy that lives in our nervous system. When we feel that love or acceptance depends on performance, the brain’s amygdala, the almond-shaped alarm center that detects threats, activates. A harsh comment, a disappointed sigh, or even a perceived failure can light up this region as if danger were near. The body floods with stress hormones, heart rate rises, and the mind goes into overdrive trying to correct or prevent mistakes.
Studies show that individuals with high perfectionistic concerns display altered HPA‐axis activity, for example, elevated waking cortisol under low and high stress conditions, or altered (blunted or exaggerated) cortisol responses to performance stress. Meanwhile, psychosocial stress induces cortisol elevations that correlate with dysregulated dopamine release in the mesolimbic system, linking performance-based reward and threat systems. Together, these mechanisms help explain why, for perfectionists, even small imperfections register in the body as danger, the reward dip and stress spike become wired into habit.
The hidden cost of control
On the outside, perfectionism appears as order, a clean desk, a flawless presentation, a beautifully curated feed. But inside, it is often driven by anxiety, shame, or fear of being seen as not enough. What looks like discipline is often self-protection. What looks like confidence can actually be a deep need to avoid disappointment, rejection, or loss of control.
Studies show that chronic perfectionism is linked to insomnia, depression, and burnout. The constant self-monitoring of “Did I say that right? Did I do enough? Will they still like me?” becomes exhausting. It is like driving with one foot on the gas and the other on the brake, you don’t go far, but you burn through your energy. Over time, that internal tension becomes a baseline, an unease that never really turns off. Even moments of rest can feel unsafe because the brain has learned that stillness means vulnerability.
Perfectionism also kills creativity. When every move must be correct, curiosity dies. We do not explore, we perform. We do not ask “what if”, we ask “is this good enough?” And in that subtle shift, we move away from authenticity and into performance. We start creating for approval instead of for expression or discovery.
Over time, this disconnect seeps into every part of life. We stop painting because the canvas might not turn out right. We hesitate to speak up in meetings because our ideas might not sound perfect. We hide parts of ourselves that feel too messy, too emotional, too real. The tragedy is that the very traits we silence, spontaneity, imagination, vulnerability, are the same ones that make us human, creative, and connected.
Perfectionism promises safety, but what it really delivers is isolation. It gives us the illusion of control while quietly stripping away the joy of being alive, the pleasure of discovery, and the freedom to simply be.
Learning imperfection is safe
For many of us, perfectionism begins as a child’s way of earning safety. A gold star, a smile, a nod of approval, each becomes a signal that we are doing things “right.” Over time, those small moments of approval get wired into our sense of belonging. We learn that achievement equals acceptance, and control equals love. But what if safety did not have to depend on performance? What if the very freedom we once feared was actually where peace lives?
Imagine a child splashing paint freely, hands covered in color, giggling at the way it drips. That joy, that total engagement, is what psychologists call a state of flow. In flow, the brain’s prefrontal cortex, the area responsible for self-monitoring and judgment, temporarily quiets, allowing creativity and intuition to emerge. Dopamine and endorphins increase, enhancing focus and intrinsic reward. The result is a sense of effortless immersion, of being fully alive and present.
That is why creativity heals, it interrupts the perfectionist’s inner critic. When we create without aiming for a result, we retrain the brain to feel safe in uncertainty. We learn that expression can exist without evaluation, and that worth is not measured by outcomes.
Relearning imperfection is not regression, it is reclamation. It is remembering what it feels like to explore without needing to prove anything. It is the return to curiosity, play, and genuine presence, the very conditions that once made us fall in love with learning in the first place!
The science of letting go
Letting go does not mean lowering standards or abandoning excellence. It means releasing the belief that your worth depends on flawless execution. True excellence grows from curiosity and care, not from fear.
Psychologists describe two types of perfectionism, adaptive and maladaptive. Adaptive perfectionism channels high standards toward growth, mastery, and persistence. It is driven by inspiration. Maladaptive perfectionism, on the other hand, ties self-worth to outcomes. It is fueled by anxiety, shame, and the constant fear of falling short. When every mistake feels like evidence of failure, the mind shifts from learning to surviving.
The transformation from one to the other does not come from pushing harder, it comes from softening inward. Research by Kristin Neff and others shows that self-compassion reduces cortisol, increases heart-rate variability (a marker of emotional regulation), and enhances motivation and resilience. When we meet our struggles with understanding instead of criticism, the body moves out of defense and into repair. The nervous system interprets kindness as safety, and from that safety, authentic effort can finally emerge.
In other words, self-kindness is not indulgent, it is biologically regulating. It is what allows us to return to the creative, connected, and courageous version of ourselves that perfectionism once tried to protect.
Art therapy: Making a mess as mindfulness
My piece “Time to Clean Up” came to life in a total state of flow. One afternoon, I started wandering around the house, picking up every little abandoned thing I could find, a puzzle piece that no longer had its match, a random headband, an old dino sticker, an abandoned rubber duck, an old Halloween mask, and more. None of it made sense together, but somehow it felt right.
I took those pieces to my studio, spread them across a blank canvas, and started to play. I did not have a plan. I just followed curiosity. As I moved the pieces around, I began to see a story forming, the contrast between the joy of childhood and the seriousness that often comes with being an adult.
At one point, I stopped arranging and simply let the objects fall where they wanted. That moment of release felt incredible, like a deep breath after holding on too long. What emerged was something raw and beautiful, a meeting point between order and chaos, play and purpose, freedom and form.
From there, I added color, patterns, and geometric focal points, the layers that remind me of how learning and creating are never clean or linear. They are messy, alive, and full of unexpected harmony.
This is the kind of piece that reveals something new every time you look at it. One day, you might notice a word that reminds you to focus. Another day, a burst of color might invite you to soften or to lead with compassion. It meets you where you are.
If this piece resonates with you, if it feels like a mirror or an anchor for your own journey, I would love to talk with you about it. You can schedule a conversation and explore how a piece from my Unapologetic collection might live in your space.
The freedom we choose
Be carefree.
Color outside the lines.
Let it drip.
Make a mess.
Hold the brush however you want.
Mix every color that calls to you.
Use the paper or something else entirely.
Good. That’s you.
Freedom isn’t the absence of mess. It’s the moment you stop cleaning yourself out of your own joy.
Read more from Anne-Catherine Bédard
Anne-Catherine Bédard, Research Scientist at Dow & Founder of Labcoat & Leggings
Anne-Catherine Bédard is a PhD chemist, artist, and founder of Labcoat and Leggings, where science meets creativity. Trained to explore molecules, she now uses color to explore emotion, transforming her journey of healing into a mission to help others embrace authenticity and self-expression. Her work celebrates the beauty of being bold, kind, and unapologetically whole. Each piece she creates invites viewers to feel empowered, confident, and free to shine in their own light.
