I used to measure success by perfection; every task had to be flawless, every decision exactly right. Over time, I realized that striving for perfection was holding me back from taking bold steps and embracing growth. What helped me shift my mindset was focusing on progress over perfection: celebrating small wins, learning from mistakes, and recognizing that imperfection is part of innovation and leadership. In my role as Executive Assistant to the CEO at Gracemark Solutions, this mindset allows me to take initiative, contribute confidently in high-stakes client meetings, and support strategic decisions without fear of “getting it wrong.” Letting go of the need for perfection has been liberating. It has taught me that bold action, continuous learning, and resilience are far more valuable than flawless execution, and that thriving in both career and life comes from moving forward, not from waiting for everything to be perfect.

Letting go of perfection wasn’t a moment it was a ministry. For years, I believed excellence required exhaustion, and that being taken seriously meant being endlessly available, polished, and proven. But perfection is a performance rooted in fear. Progress is a posture rooted in faith. I began to release the pressure to be perfect when I realized that my calling didn’t require my constant proving it required my presence, my discernment, and my willingness to be refined in real time. Here’s what helped me shift: I reframed risk as stewardship. Every bold move I’ve made launching Innata nonprofit, Rgm of SWFL and Take the risk and take off mentoring women, stewarding funding wasn’t about perfection. It was about obedience. I asked, “What’s mine to carry?” and moved from there. I embraced strategic imperfection. I learned to submit drafts, not masterpieces. To show up with clarity, not control. That’s where collaboration and breakthrough live. I honored my humanity. I stopped apologizing for needing rest, for changing my mind, for setting boundaries. That’s not weakness it’s wisdom. I taught others to do the same. Through coaching, workshops, and documentation, I model what it looks like to lead with elevated standards and restored expectations. Perfection isolates. Progress invites. And when we release the need to be flawless, we make room for legacy, impact, and joy.

My mother taught me the kind of strength that doesn’t always make noise. The kind that keeps going when no one is watching. She modeled resilience through every challenge, never complaining, just finding a way forward. From her, I learned that grace under pressure is its own quiet power.

For a long time, I believed that perfection was the price of success. Every project, every meeting, every milestone had to be flawless or so I thought. But over time, I realized that chasing perfection was keeping me from growth. It made me hesitant to delegate, cautious to take risks, and slow to celebrate wins. Progress felt secondary to control and that mindset wasn't sustainable for leadership or life. The turning point came when I started leading larger teams and overseeing complex initiatives across healthcare and staffing. I quickly learned that excellence doesn't mean doing everything yourself or getting everything right. It means empowering others, learning in real time, and iterating toward better outcomes. Perfection is static; progress is alive. I began focusing on momentum instead of mastery. Instead of asking, "Is this perfect?" I now ask, "Does this move us forward?" That shift created freedom; freedom to innovate, to fail fast, and to learn faster. It's also allowed me to model authenticity for my team. When I admit I don't have all the answers, it gives others permission to experiment, speak up, and grow. Today, I thrive by embracing the beauty of progress. I still set high standards, but I've learned that the goal isn't flawlessness. It's evolution. The best leaders aren't perfect; they're self-aware, adaptable, and courageous enough to keep moving even when things are messy. Letting go of perfection didn't lower my standards; it raised my capacity. It allowed me to lead with confidence, clarity, and compassion, and to build teams that value progress as the true path to excellence.

Early in my career at Assembly Fasteners, I thought success meant getting everything exactly right. Over time, I realized that perfection often limits growth. Shifting my focus to progress allowed me to take risks, trust my instincts, and lead with greater authenticity. Letting go of perfection opened the door to creativity and confidence, both in myself and in others. True leadership isn't about being flawless; it's about learning, adapting, and moving forward together. "Perfection isn't the goal. Progress is. Growth happens when we give ourselves permission to learn along the way."

Letting go of perfection taught me the power of surrender. When I stopped trying to control everything and trusted God instead, I found peace and discovered that my obedience wasn't just for me, it was for those who were waiting on me to move.

Perfection is exhausting, but progress is empowering and every time I choose grace over pressure, I get closer to the woman I'm becoming.

I've learned to "let go" and "enjoy the ride." I do a lot of journaling after work. It's therapeutic. I used to set high standards for myself and put a lot of pressure on perfectionism. I always wanted everything to run smoothly and be perfect. Now, I focus on taking the pressure off my shoulders and getting the job one task at a time. Instead of striving for perfection, I set achievable goals and celebrate small victories along the way. This helps me maintain motivation and a positive outlook. Focusing on the positive aspects of my life and expressing gratitude for my experiences, both good and bad, helps me maintain balance and resilience. I've built a strong network of supportive friends, family, and mentors who encourage me to embrace progress and offer valuable perspectives when I feel overwhelmed or uncertain.

Before my faith journey began, I constantly compared myself to others. I felt lost, empty, and often hopeless. For a long time, I avoided church because I believed I had to clean myself up before walking through the doors. I assumed everyone inside had it all together, that they were perfect and I wasn't. But I couldn't have been more mistaken. A friend once shared something with me that changed my perspective completely. She asked, "Do you get in the shower clean?" I laughed and said no, and she replied, "Exactly. You go to God the same way. You don't clean yourself up before going to Him. You go to Him dirty, and He's the one who washes you." That conversation became a turning point for me. It reminded me that perfection is not the goal; surrender is. In the beginning of my faith journey, I still struggled with comparison and the pressure to be flawless. But over time, I learned that growth does not come from my own strength, it comes from God's grace. I began praying for the desires of my heart to change, and little by little, they did. There are still moments when I stumble, when old habits resurface and I feel the weight of guilt. But now, instead of letting that condemnation take hold, I lean into the truth that we all fall short of the glory of God. None of us are perfect, and the only perfect man to ever walk this earth was Jesus Christ, who died so we could live in relationship with Him. Letting go of perfection has allowed me to truly thrive. I no longer chase an impossible standard. I choose progress over perfection, knowing that grace covers every step along the way.

The truth is, perfectionism is just fear in a ball gown; fear of being judged, of failing, of not being enough. It looks fancy but it's a cage. Women, especially, have been fed the idea that competence equals flawlessness. You have to be brilliant but humble, assertive but "likable," a leader but not bossy. That's an impossible paradox, and the way out isn't by running faster on the same wheel. It's by stepping off it. I actually broke free when I stopped treating mistakes as character flaws and started treating them as data. I built instead of polished. I took the promotion before I felt "ready." I learned that 80% done and launched beats 100% perfect and invisible. Progress over perfection isn't laziness; it's strategy. Because real success comes from iteration just like code, just like art, just like life. Every experiment, every crack in the plan, is proof that you're doing instead of dreaming about doing. Perfection is sterile. Progress is alive. And honestly, being alive beats being flawless every time.

Perfection used to feel like the standard. The invisible bar I had to reach before I could take a step forward. I thought if I could just get it exactly right, then I'd be safe from judgment, failure, or disappointment. But the truth is, perfection is paralyzing. It doesn't protect us; it keeps us small. What helped me let go wasn't a sudden shift, but a series of moments where I chose progress over perfection, clarity over control, and purpose over fear. Becoming a mother was one of those moments. It taught me that done is better than perfect; that showing up fully, even imperfectly, is far more powerful than waiting until everything is just right. In both career and life, I've learned that growth happens when we move — not when we hesitate. Some of my best work, proudest moments, and greatest connections came from taking risks I wasn't "ready" for. I've made mistakes, but I've also gained wisdom, strength, and resilience I never would have found while chasing perfection. Letting go of the pressure to be perfect gave me room to thrive and to lead in a way that's honest, grounded, and real.

This one is easy to answer because I grew up in the projects and very poor where pressure to be perfect was never pushed in my family dynamics, in fact it just the opposite I was always told to put Jehovah first and all other things will be added. What helped me to embrace progress, take risks, and thrive in both career and life without being weighed down is not being pressured this helped me to take my time and make sure I was healthy enough both mentally, physically and emotionally first because without those things being in the fore front success is bound to fail. I learned not to depend on being successful but to work being happy, healthy and spiritually strong and in turn I have become successful.

I have always tried to do my best in everything I do. I learn from my mistakes and I show that learning from mistakes is a new challenge to overcome, I use what I have learned in my past to keep myself going and overcome the challenges that life continues to throw at me.

For a long time, I thought perfection was the standard, that success meant doing everything flawlessly. But I eventually learned that chasing perfection only holds you back from real growth. My turning point came when I changed my vantage point on failure. I'd often hear mentors and professors describe failure as a learning tool, but it didn't make sense until I experienced it myself. Failure can be painful, but it's also powerful. When I began to see it not as an ending, but as a checkpoint — a moment to pause, reflect, and plan my next move — everything shifted. I started approaching setbacks with curiosity rather than criticism, asking myself: *What caused this? What can I control? What can I do better next time?* That mindset helped me move forward with confidence instead of fear. One of my mentors once told me, "Perfection isn't real, not in business and not in life." That truth freed me. Letting go of the need to be perfect allowed me to take risks, learn faster, and actually enjoy the process. Progress, not perfection, is where growth and real success happen.

Perfectionism told me I needed all the answers before I could lead confidently. But true leadership is saying 'I don't know, but I'll find out' and owning your mistakes quickly. When I let go of being perfect and focused on being reliable, honest, and resilient, everything changed. That's when I started truly thriving.

For a long time, I chased perfection like it was proof of my worth. Every degree, every accomplishment, every moment of holding it all together felt like a box I needed to check to prove I was enough. But perfection is a moving target; it never brings peace. It took walking through some storms, both personally and professionally, to realize that progress is where the growth really happens. The turning point came when I stopped trying to be flawless and started showing up as faithful. I learned that mistakes don't disqualify you. They refine you. The sparkle dress moment taught me that confidence doesn't come from having it all figured out; it comes from standing tall in the middle of the mess and saying, "I'm still here, and I'm still shining." As a woman, a leader, and an author, I've learned to embrace the beauty of becoming instead of the burden of being perfect. I've found that grace lives in the process and that real strength shows up not when everything is polished, but when you keep showing up with heart and humility. Progress over perfection; that's where life gets real, and that's where joy takes root. Because we will never be perfect, so why chase it? Embrace you and thrive.

Perfection used to feel like the only way to prove myself, especially in research, where every detail is scrutinized. But motherhood and leadership taught me that progress matters more than perfection. I've learned to celebrate small steps forward, to release the fear of getting it wrong, and to see mistakes as part of growth. Now, I focus on doing my best, trusting the process, and trusting that God will guide me where I'm meant to be. True progress isn't about doing everything flawlessly, it's about having the courage to keep going, even when things aren't perfect.

Letting go of perfection wasn't a lesson I learned. It was a mindset I carried with me from the very beginning. All through my life, I've stepped into the unknown with one belief: I can always improve, I can always make progress. Perfection, to me, was never the goal. It felt unrealistic, limiting, and impossible to achieve and I refused to let it define my pace or my potential. When I moved to the United States, I didn't have all the answers. When I stepped into real estate, I didn't have a safety net. But every major leap I've taken was a calculated risk grounded in preparation, courage, and faith. Those risks became some of my greatest blessings in disguise. What truly helped me thrive was embracing the art of accomplishing things instead of procrastinating. I've learned that momentum builds confidence, and action creates clarity. You don't need the perfect plan; you just need the willingness to begin. Each step forward, even the imperfect ones, has shaped the leader, mother, and woman I am today. Progress over perfection has been my north star. It's how I've taken bold risks, grown in my career, built a life with purpose, and unlocked the best version of myself one intentional step at a time.

Perfection used to feel like the safest place to operate. If the work was flawless, the logic followed that no one could question it. Many women are taught early in their careers that the best way to earn credibility is to over prepare, over deliver, and avoid mistakes at all costs. I lived that way for years. It was exhausting and it created a ceiling that I did not see until much later. What helped me break out of the perfectionist trap was experience. In large scale transformations, nothing ever goes exactly according to plan. You are dealing with competing priorities, changing environments, and real people navigating real constraints. You learn very quickly that perfect is not only impossible, it is counterproductive. Progress is what creates momentum, earns trust, and moves organizations forward. Letting go of perfection started with one simple mindset shift. I stopped asking, "Is this flawless?" and started asking, "Is this clear, purposeful, and moving us forward?" That change opened the door to working with more intention and far less pressure. A few practices made the biggest difference for me. • I learned to release the belief that mistakes define my credibility. What defines credibility is how you respond and recover. • I began sharing work earlier and inviting input sooner. Collaboration surfaced better ideas than isolation ever could. • I built space for reflection into my routines so I could adjust course instead of forcing something to be right the first time. • I started modeling healthy imperfection for my teams. When leaders show that learning is valued more than flawlessness, people begin to step up rather than hold back. • I reminded myself often that excellence is not the same as perfection. Excellence is about consistency and impact. Perfection is about fear. Embracing progress over perfection is what allowed me to take bold steps in my own career. It gave me the confidence to walk away from a traditional executive path and build a business grounded in clarity, purpose, and the kind of work that energizes me. It helped me take risks that once felt impossible. And it allowed me to grow in ways that perfectionism would never have allowed. Progress builds capability. Progress builds courage. Progress builds careers. Perfection only builds pressure. Letting go of impossible standards freed me to lead with more authenticity, more humanity, and far more impact.

I stopped chasing perfection the day I realized progress was the real proof of growth. Letting go made space for courage, creativity, and a career built on momentum not fear.

I broke free from perfectionism when I realized it was keeping me from taking the risks that would actually grow me. Balancing Calvin Klein, graduate school, and my full creative life taught me that progress is more powerful than polished edges. My best work has come from showing up fully, not perfectly.

Breaking free from perfectionism and achieving success without a support system required me to unlearn the idea that being mistake-free equated to excellence. I shifted my focus to momentum. Consistent, imperfect action that propels me forward. I gave myself permission to test, iterate, and grow. Redefining success as progress, not perfection, was crucial. By stopping the wait for the "perfect time" or the "perfect version," I created space to lead boldly and thrive, unburdened by the impossible weight of doing everything flawlessly.

I broke free from the perfectionist trap when I realized that perfection stalls momentum, so I now lead with progress, curiosity, and clarity. I ask questions (openly and early) even if there's a risk of being labeled, because seeking clarity accelerates outcomes and builds shared understanding. Curiosity fuels thoughtful risk‑taking, while a disciplined focus helps me balance work and home without chasing impossible standards. I've also learned not to assume good work speaks for itself: I proactively articulate goals, describe progress and tradeoffs, and invite feedback to sharpen the path. This shift from polish to momentum, from flawless execution to continuous learning has enabled me to deliver impact, stay adaptable, and create space for others to grow, iterate, and thrive without the weight of perfection.

For most of my life, perfectionism felt like the only acceptable standard. I wore it like armor, convinced it was the very thing that made me responsible, successful, and worthy. But beneath that polished surface was something far heavier like chronic anxiety, unrealistic expectations, and a constant fear of falling short. Perfectionism wasn't a motivator. It was a quiet form of self-punishment wrapped in the illusion of high standards. Letting go of perfectionism was one of the hardest things I've ever done, and it didn't happen overnight. Mental health struggles complicated it even more. When you live with anxiety, perfectionism can feel like control. It convinces you that if you get everything right (every detail, every decision) you'll finally feel safe. But the truth is, perfectionism doesn't protect you. It traps you. For years, I believed mistakes were failures and that anything less than flawless meant I wasn't enough. That constant self-monitoring became exhausting. Perfectionism set goals that were impossible to meet and then shamed me for not meeting them. It created a cycle of self-criticism that chipped away at my confidence and fed the very anxiety I was trying to outrun. Eventually, I learned that perfectionism and mental health cannot coexist peacefully. The more I chased perfection, the further I pushed myself into burnout, discouragement, and emotional exhaustion. Perfectionism promises achievement, but what it truly delivers is self-destruction. It hangs over you like a dark cloud, convincing you that you will never measure up no matter how hard you try. That weight can lead to depression, self-doubt, and an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. Breaking free required a mindset shift that felt uncomfortable at first: strive for progress, not perfection. At the beginning, that mantra felt like settling. I mistook "progress" for "lowering the bar." But what I discovered is that progress is where growth lives. Progress allows you to celebrate small steps, honor your effort, and recognize that you are human, not a machine. Choosing progress meant giving myself permission to make mistakes, rest when I was overwhelmed, and value learning over flawless execution. It required courage to admit that perfection is not attainable and that chasing it only leads you further away from peace. Letting go meant embracing compassion, patience, and grace for myself; the same values I so readily give to others. I also learned that vulnerability is strength. Sharing my struggles, advocating for mental health, and acknowledging my humanity made me a better educator, a better leader, and a better person. It taught me that showing up authentically matters far more than showing up perfectly. Today, I understand that perfectionism is not the goal and it never should be. The goal is growth. The goal is resilience. The goal is to keep moving forward even when things aren't tidy or ideal. Progress is sustainable. Progress is healthy. Progress allows you to breathe. If I could tell anyone struggling with perfectionism one thing, it would be this: you are allowed to be a work in progress. You are allowed to learn, adjust, stumble, and rise again. You do not need to earn your worth with flawless performance. You are already enough. Perfectionism may have once felt like a companion, but it was never a friend. Releasing it is an act of self-preservation and embracing progress is an act of self-love.

For a long time, perfectionism felt like my armor. If the lesson plan was flawless, if the data was color-coded, if the email was edited ten times, then maybe no one could question my competence. As a young teacher and new mom, I thought excellence meant having no visible cracks. The problem is, perfection is exhausting and isolating. It kept me from trying new things in my classroom because I didn't want to "fail in public." It made me rewrite units instead of piloting them. It made me judge myself harshly for not being everything to everyone—teacher, mother, partner, graduate student—at once. I started to shift when I realized my students were learning more from my process than from my polished products. The day I said, "This lesson didn't land the way I hoped; help me fix it for tomorrow," they leaned in. When I shared my messy drafts of writing alongside theirs, they took more risks with their own. Progress, not perfection, is what built trust. It allowed them to start taking risks they would never have previously. Now, I set "good enough to grow from" as the goal. I pilot a new idea with one class instead of waiting until it's perfect for all of them. I give myself permission to send the email, turn in the draft, or try the project even if I can still see ten ways to improve it. What helped me thrive was reframing perfectionism as fear and progress as courage. Perfection keeps me focused on how I look; progress keeps me focused on the impact I'm trying to make. The work, and the people I serve, are worth more than my need to look flawless.

As a perfectionist, I learned to redefine what "perfect" actually means. Perfection isn't a flawless outcome anymore; it includes the growth, the mistakes, and the evolution that come after trying. Giving myself space to adjust and letting my definition of perfection expand has been the most freeing part of my journey.