"I'm a perfectionist. I want everything to be perfect."
"I just want to be the best and live the best possible life."
I hear these in my sessions more than almost anything else. When I do, I always pause and ask: What does perfect mean to you? Where did you learn that?
Most of the time, the answer traces back to the same places — a parent's expectations, a teacher's standards, the quiet but persistent pressure of society. Somewhere along the way, people come to believe they need to become a certain version of themselves in order to be liked, accepted, and loved.
The template usually looks something like this: good grades, good behavior, the right school, the right salary, the right partner, a big house, financial freedom. Perfection, in this model, means having what others have — and just a little more. And yet, even when people reach it, something still feels off. I've known many people who have checked every box and still feel entirely empty.
If this is perfection, why does it feel like failure?
The Linguistic Shift
That question sent me looking. I wanted to know: where did these words actually come from? What I found genuinely surprised me.
Perfect: In Ancient Rome, perfectus meant "complete, finished, having reached its purpose." It wasn't about being flawless — it was about being whole. By the medieval period, it took on a spiritual tone, meaning something resembling the divine. Today, it has become an external, socially-imposed standard of flawlessness.
Best: Originally, "best" referred to what was most effective or reliable in a given situation. It was a functional word, not a comparative one. It meant doing what worked, in this moment, with what you had.
At some point, the focus shifted — from an internal sense of wholeness to an external standard of appearance. We traded purpose for performance.
What This Means for You
If we return to the original meaning of perfect — has reached its purpose — most of us have already exceeded it. If you have moved through different seasons of life, survived obstacles you didn't expect, and learned what you could with what you had, you are already complete. You have already fulfilled the purpose of being you.
And "best"? I remind clients of this often: your best is not fixed. It shifts with your body, your mental state, your environment, your season of life. When we use someone else's best to measure our own, we invite imposter syndrome. We erode our self-trust. We stop believing what we know to be true about ourselves.
In sessions, I work with clients to gently examine these inherited beliefs — to question where they came from, to see whether they actually fit. But I also understand why it's hard to let them go. When the whole world is reinforcing one definition of success, holding onto your own truth takes real courage.
Waking Up
Sometimes, sitting with a client, I have this quiet urge to reach across and say: Do you see what I see?
- A person who walked through hell and survived.
- A person who climbed out of the darkest place and is finally standing in the light.
- A person who traveled a long road looking for something they already carried.
Perfection doesn't live out there, waiting at the top of a ladder. It's not a prize you earn once you've fixed all your flaws. It lives here, in the present moment — in the act of showing up, of being alive, of continuing.
Whether you're working, resting, or simply breathing, your purpose is already being fulfilled.
We don't need to be better. We just need to slow down long enough to recognize that we are already whole.