Perfect is Just Another Word for Fear
Why Imperfect Action Beats Endless Planning—Every Single Time
This morning, I almost didn’t post this.
Thought it wasn’t quite ready.
Thought I’d tweak it a little more, just in case.
But that’s the trap, isn’t it?
I used to think if I could just get it perfect, I’d finally feel like I was getting somewhere.
Perfect posts. Perfect timing. Perfect pitch.
I thought if I dialed it in just right, the world would notice and everything would click.
But perfect was just a lie I told myself to feel safe.
It let me hide behind drafts I never published.
Kept me tweaking instead of sharing.
It was my excuse for not moving forward—because if it wasn’t perfect, it didn’t count.
Perfect is a cage.
It’s that voice in your head whispering you’re not ready.
Not good enough.
Not the “right” person for this.
It promises if you wait longer and plan harder, you’ll skip the messy parts.
But the real work? The real progress?
It starts when you stop waiting.
When you let go of perfect and start showing up—flaws and all.
When you decide done is better than perfect.
When you trade polish for presence, even if you’re not sure how it’ll land.
Some of my best work has come from half-finished ideas.
Posts I wrote in 17 minutes while the baby slept.
Pitches I recorded in the car.
Tiny experiments that didn’t feel ready but ended up opening doors.
I used to think showing up meant being polished.
Now I know it just means being real.
Because people aren’t looking for perfect.
They’re looking for honest.
They’re looking for proof they’re not the only one winging it.
Perfect never paid my bills.
Perfect never built my business.
Imperfect action did.
Imperfect action is sending the email even if you’re second-guessing every word.
It’s taking the shot even if your hands are shaking.
It’s posting the thing that makes your stomach drop—because it’s the truest thing you’ve said all week.
It’s not about lowering the bar.
It’s about changing how you measure progress.
When I stopped chasing perfect, I started moving faster.
Not because I had it all figured out—but because I stopped trying to.
I stopped treating every decision like a final exam.
I started treating them like reps. Like practice.
Some days, that still feels risky.
Like I’m tossing half-formed thoughts into the void.
But every time I do, I find more confidence in the doing.
More proof that momentum beats precision every time.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Perfect doesn’t exist.
Not in business. Not in parenting. Not in the messy work that actually matters.
There’s just what you’re willing to risk today.
What you’re willing to try, even if it’s half-baked.
What you’re willing to share, even if your voice is shaking.
So if you’re sitting on something you’ve been tweaking for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment—this is your permission slip:
Let it be messy.
Let it be real.
Let it be enough for today.
The world doesn’t need more perfect posts.
It needs more people showing up as they are—tired, unsure, but too stubborn to quit.
One imperfect step at a time.
That’s how you build something that lasts.
Not by chasing perfect.
By showing up anyway.
And if you’re stuck right now, second-guessing every move?
Just remember:
Perfect is just another word for fear.
Let it go.
Keep moving.
You’re closer than you think.
- Jay
Perfectionism is a prison.