Portrait of a Perfectionist on Fire

Reconciling my need to achieve with slowing down

For a long time, I’ve felt at odds with two distinct parts of myself. There was five year old who loved to play and spend time with her friends and family, who gave little fucks about grades, accomplishments, or things like a “career.” 

But when I was ten, things changed when I moved to the US. The pressure to succeed was inescapable, whether by watching my dad struggle through his residency, our lower household income, or my brother’s academic achievements. As I gravitated towards studies and awards, I found something else: belonging. Smart felt safe.  

But now, at almost 30 years old, I wonder how to forge a more harmonious relationship between these parts, especially as I embark on my next career transition.

Portrait of my hand on a (sparkler) fire

The evolution of Lil Miss Perfect

As my therapist and I explored this question, we realized that the achievement-oriented part was an extension of an earlier part. This part, whom I labeled “Lil Miss Perfect,”  was obsessed with doing things correctly. This part, likely developed during early childhood, communicates like one too—usually through images, repeated phrases, or physical reactions, like a racing heart or shallow breathing.

This fact isn’t too surprising. My family was in a turbulent situation when I was born, navigating career, financial, and relationship challenges. Plus, I grew up in a very conservative and patriarchal household, with strict expectations on how kids were supposed to behave and be disciplined. It was normal to hear adults yelling at each other and the kids, or worse, threatening to hit (and sometimes hitting) kids to whip them into shape. 

This might be shocking to hear, but for fellow desis, this is a highly normalized reality. I joke that you have to yell to be taken seriously in India. But the humor hides an ugly fact: adults behaved this way because none of them had the tools or vocabulary to talk about their feelings or ways to cope with big emotions. That skill gap has been passed down from generation to generation, with varying impacts on the lineage. 

For me, this chaos became subconsciously internalized as needing perfection. If I do things right, I will be safe. This worked as a child, validating me (“good girl!”) and peace in our household. However, as an adult, this belief has manifested into anxiety, projecting self-doubt in the most mundane circumstances. In moments of perceived danger, it rejects my internal compass in favor of external validation. It repeatedly asks, "Are you sure?" until I can’t do anything but seek external validation.

Now, as I look back on the narrative of my childhood, it’s not that moving to the US made me a perfectionist. Lil Miss Perfect was always there. But the trauma of the move resulted in her influencing other areas of my life, further binding her into my identity. She made me a great student and corporate employee, as I was routinely praised for “raising the bar” on my team. She helped me build discipline in my personal life, whether fitness or wedding planning. 

Lil Miss Perfect is the secret behind my achievements. 

Growth while staying grounded

Despite Lil Miss Perfect’s success, I know I’m ready for a different relationship with her. This was one of my big intentions with the sabbatical and something I’m very mindful of as I navigate this next career chapter. I no longer want to live with fear and low-grade anxiety for the sake of achievement. But at the same time, I don’t want to remain static. Growth is a big part of my identity, and momentum is a strong motivator. 

So, what if Lil Miss Perfect could help me grow while staying grounded? 

In defining groundedness, I kept thinking back to the five-year-old me who optimized for play and connection. How do I translate that feeling into the realities of adulthood? Three moments came to mind: 

• One month into my sabbatical, I challenged myself to take the whole day off despite my discomfort with “wasting time.” I walked around the park listening to Britney’s audiobook and going into a YouTube rabbit hole of 90s pop culture. 

• Six months ago, during my wedding dance rehearsal, I got so lost in the music that I forgot the steps and tripped over my husband. 

• Three weeks ago, I Facetimed my brother and nephews for an hour, which caused me to fall behind on screenwriting. 

The common thread between all these moments is making space for ease, usually through slowing down. Sometimes, that shows up as scheduled rest days, reducing the pressure to succeed, or letting go of preconceived plans and going with the flow. It means holding two contradictory ideas simultaneously: Lil Miss Perfect’s desire to grow is valid, and so is the other part that wants to slow down. 

Girl, so confusing

Though I haven't fully reconciled these two parts of myself, I'm starting to understand the challenge. Even though this approach feels right, it means that success won’t be as quick as it has been in the past. This is difficult for both Lil Miss Perfect and me to accept because our identities have become entangled in validation and perfection for so long. Moments of grief still catch me unexpectedly- a pang of jealousy at someone else's success, a wave of nostalgia while flipping through old photos. Sometimes, I cry; other times I get angry. When it’s too much, I distract myself. 

But even in those difficult moments, I’m grateful for this new direction. Lil Miss Perfect is warming up to that idea, too. 

Thanks for Reading! 

I’m on a journey to create a blended career across the creative arts, tech, and business. This newsletter is my way of sharing my reflections, thoughts, and advice. Here are some ways to support my work: 

• If you want to see more content like this, heart the post. 

• Share the post with a friend. 

• Hearing from readers also gives me a ton of energy. Drop a comment if you have struggled with “perfectionist” parts of yourself or have ideas of what groundedness means to you.