how to stop waiting for everything to be perfect
and just start doing things
If there was a medal for finding the most inventive ways to procrastinate - I’d be a world champion.
I’m a sucker for the idea of things. I love thinking what would be, what should be, what I could make or write or build.
But there’s something that always happens the moment when I have to take an idea from the land of imagination and actually turn it into something real.
The moment it goes from being a brainstorm to a to-do list, the fun evaporates - all of a sudden, I’m bombarded with all the logical reasons why I can’t start just yet. Because once it’s on the list, it’s no longer a dream, but a deadline…and deadlines make things real. Which is exciting, sure, but it’s also kinda terrifying.
And there’s no end to the creative reasons my mind comes up about why I can’t start yet. It’s like mental whack-a-mole: the second I silence one excuse, the next one pops up.
A few of my brain’s most-replayed hits:
“it’s not the right time”
This one usually takes top spot in my billboard of intrusive thoughts, especially if there’s even a hint of discomfort - as in, literally anything that’s new, different, or even if it’s just ‘been awhile.’ I start thinking “if it was the right time, it would be easy,” or “if I was meant to do this right now, it would flow, but it’s not, so maybe I shouldn’t be doing this yet?”
And it shows up everywhere: when I’m about to post something to Instagram, share a new offer, pitch myself for a collaboration, or even try out a new workout class. The literal second it feels awkward or clunky, my brain jumps in, shouting “see? told you so.”
The moment something feels anything less than “effortless” - my mind sprints into full-on detective mode, scanning for signs that I’m not supposed be doing it. And because nothing in life is completely frictionless, every little hurdle becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy to prove to me that obviously it’s really not the right time because if it was, it would be easier.
If it was the right time, surely Mercury wouldn’t be retrograding right now? Surely I would have seen 11:11 on my phone three days in a row? And surely I would feel better about starting, surely I should wait till I feel more excited and high vibe and energetic about it all?
“I need to research more”
I see this particular flavour of self-sabotage everywhere, but in my life it shows up especially in content. The thought of just turning on a camera and pressing ‘record’ feels so unfathomable, and suddenly I’ve spent hours researching the perfect angle, the sharpest hook, and the best b-roll.
I start scrolling for inspo instead of actually hitting record, and invariably, I find myself convinced that I don’t know enough about the topic - surely I should read a few more articles, watch a few more videos, or study it a bit more before I even talk about it on camera?
This one’s sneaky for me - because on the surface it feels like starting - but in reality, it’s just procrastination in really cute shoes.
“I need to get better at it before I can start”
This one is pretty much the research trap, but in a different font: it’s the part of me that hates being bad at something - the part that goes into flight mode the second I think I might fail. This is impostor syndrome in all its glory; the devil on my shoulder that whispers “why don’t you already know how to do this?”
It’s the part of my psyche that hates not “getting it right.” And yes, logically, I know that being good at something is impossible if I’ve never tried it before. But the irrational part of me still insists that somehow, I should be the exception to the rule (ugh) and somehow, I should be able to nail it on the first try.
“I need proof that others have had success with it”
This one shows up in all sorts of ways: from little things like not ordering first at dinner (two words: food envy) to bigger moves, like hesitating on a career pivot because I haven’t seen anyone else do it before.
And sure, there’s a time for social proof - it’s a hardwired human need, after all - but my brain takes this idea to another level, and what happens is that I end up being completely paralysed to take the next step, because there’s no guarantee that it will be successful.
It’s the perfect recipe for mental exhaustion: on one hand, I’m telling myself to be brave! be a trailblazer! and don’t follow the herd! but on the other hand, I’m secretly looking for permission slips or nods of approval before I allow myself to start something new.
And before you ask, “but don’t those excuses just get in the way of doing what you want to do?”
Let me be so clear: yes, yes they do. But does that knowledge stop me from continuing to turn back to them like an old ex I can’t shake? Absolutely not.
I remember a couple years ago, when I just getting into the online space and I was about to launch my first program. I had so much I wanted to share in it. I had journaled about it for months; I had talked to my friends about it, and I even did a mock run on a few beta testers who all came back with glowing reviews.
But when it came down to the wire, when I had to actually pay for a year’s subscription to a hosting platform so that I could get the content online - I procrastinated. I’m embarrassed to say I put it off for months, doing “busy work” that felt good but didn’t actually move things forward - all because I knew that as soon as I put money down, I wouldn’t be able to “prep” anymore. I’d have to actually do the thing.
But when I finally bit the bullet, I realised that it really wasn’t as hard as I made it out to be.
Don’t get me wrong, it was farrrrr from perfect. My first sales page was a DIY job that any web designer would cringe at. My first conversion posts were awkward, my first sales calls were clunky and unstructured and there were multiple times I almost talked them out of the purchase.
But the thing was: it was as good as it needed to be. And if I had waited for perfection - I’d probably still be waiting now.
It’s both frustrating and freeing to realise this but the thing is: we can’t strive for perfect because perfect doesn’t exist. Perfect is an impossible illusion, a dreamscape of all the things we think a thing could be rather than a thing that actually exists.
Because spoiler: I went on to run that course four more times. And every time I launched it, something changed. I tweaked some of the templates, re-recorded some of the videos, I added new bonuses and replaced outdated advice.
And one of the things that helped me to finally just get! started! instead of waiting for everything to feel perfect was to change my goalpost. I gave myself a new standard: excellence, not perfection.
To me, excellence feels exciting, not intimidating. I think it’s my relationship to the word - but somehow, my nervous system doesn’t see it as a cop-out, or a downgrade, or like I’m lowering the bar. Excellence holds me to the high standard that I want to strive for - but it’s not so rigid. There’s space and breath in that word: space to experiment. Space to try. Space to be human.
The thing about excellence is that it still expects the best from you. It still asks for all the skill you have available. You don’t get to excellence by accident; you still need focus, attention, discipline. But it also offers you a permission slip to start where you’re at.
Excellence holds space for input from those who have done it before, without demanding that I have to do it their way. It allows me to use the tools that I have available, the experiences that I have gathered till now, without the expectation that I’ve become an expert in every facet first. It accepts the best of who I am, right now.
Because if I look back at anything five years from now - chances are I won’t think it’s my best anymore. My work, my writing, my clothing style, my dreams - chances are, they’ll have changed.
And maybe… maybe that’s okay? Maybe all I need is to to be able to look back and say: that was my best then, given what I had and what I knew.
As much as I hate to admit it, I now know this:
Perfect is about performance. About proving. About me. Excellence is about presence. About service. About others.
And if you’re like me and you’re tired of your own excuses but don’t know quite what to do about it: here are some ways I’m choosing to stop waiting till things are just so and actually start with what I’ve got:
practical ways to stop waiting for perfect:
start with a ramble. if you don’t know what to say, literally open a blank page and write at the top: “this is going to be a great piece of content and even if it sucks, at least I’ll have fun making it. and I don’t know where this is going to go but I was just thinking about…”
write about the fear. instead of thinking about it. get it out of your head and onto paper; it makes it smaller and less life-threatening.
book the thing. pay for the thing. in advance. the money part makes it real (and real gets it done).
tell a friend that you’re starting. and that you’re scared. ask them to check in, annoy you, cheer you on - whatever works.
set a timer. someone told me “if you’re dreading doing something, just do it for 10 minutes and then you can quit” and I’ve used that principle for everything from workouts to pitch decks to moving house. it works.
tell yourself your first draft is going in the trash. lower the stakes for yourself.
romanticise the hard stuff. pair something you hate with something you love. take yourself to your favourite coffee shop to file your taxes. go on a walk while you have a hard conversation with someone you love. write under a tree instead of at a desk.
Please, please remember: you are capable of incredible, wonderful things. You are capable of excellence - just the fact that you have hesitated this long proves that you are intentional about what you do. But don’t let your desire for flawlessness hold you back from getting started.
Because sure, maybe it’ll be clunky. Maybe it’ll flop. And maybe in a year’s time you’ll look back and cringe.
But you’ll also be so proud you started with what you had. And you’ll be so much closer to your dream than you would have been.