
5 lessons from "The Gifts of Imperfection" for a more authentic life
I used to be someone who liked things only when they were in a very precise way. I was the kind of person who never felt that things were good enough, redoing emails two or three times and practicing conversations over and over, just so I could slide in the words whose importance only means something to me. I kept pushing myself towards an ideal, against a flawless version that didn’t actually exist. I accepted this as part of my mental make up, thinking it was the cost of havingbyproduct of having high standards. After listening to a conversation on Bren Brown's 'The Gifts of Imperfection' on Dialogue: Podcast discussions on books, I realized it wasn't any inherent personality trait of mine at all. Rather, it was just the defense mechanism I created to avoid the constant feeling of inadequacy.
Here's what I learned:
First, Perfectionism isn't about doing your best (even if you might have the same reference). Perfectionism is about seeking approval. According to Brown, perfectionism is not about excellence but about seeking approval. It's a tag we like to impersonate to avoid being seen, a shield we employ to take shelter. Realizing that my need to polish and redo work was less about quality and more about preserving my sense of self helped me make sense of my exhausting behavioral patterns.
Second, Your worth isn't something you have to earn, it's where you start. The central thesis of the book is that you are worthy right now. Not after a promotion, not after losing the last 20 pounds, and not after getting your life in order, you do not have to strive to become "good enough." However, we often hold the opposite belief- that we must somehow earn our worthiness before we're allowed to fully feel it. The author explains that this mindset comes from a scarcity of spirit. And this inner feeling of lack bleeds into every aspect of life and always tells us that we are one slip-up away from proving, to ourselves, that we were never enough.
Third, there are two different ways of getting over discomfort. One is going through it and eventually surpassing its finish line or boundary (there's always one); the second is actively ignoring it by distracting ourselves or trying to repress it by being indifferent. We live in a culture of numbing, where we're encouraged to be busy and avoid discomfort through distractions (overworking, overeating, shopping, scrolling, etc.). The problem is, you can’t numb just the bad feelings. Numbing unpleasant emotions inevitably numbs the pleasant ones too, and without any of them, we feel no connection to our experience and no joy. Accepting discomfort instead of escaping it is the only way to feel anything good again.
Fourth, securing rest and joy are not rewards, they are necessary components of our social functioning. This thought that rest and play are not earned luxuries but essential requirements to become resilient, went against everything I had believed as an adult- that exhaustion proved my worth and that slowing down was something to feel guilty about. I learned that defining our self-worth based on how productive we are is a barrier, not a virtue.
Fifth, boundaries are not walls. The act of "setting boundaries" is a practice in kindness. Boundaries are not to be conceptualized as borders but as the compassionate boundaries of a home, which bifurcates different areas within it. My whole life I believed that if I set a boundary or said "no," I was committing an essential but selfish act, something that could disappoint others. But the author makes the argument that not having boundaries doesn’t make you more loving but only leads to resentment toward those you didn’t say no to.
Understanding the origins of my perfectionismand letting go of the need to earn my worth has greatly calmed me down. It's not because I do less. It's because I don't have to justify rest or setting boundaries. The central message of the book is so simple, yet it’s one of the most difficult lessons to live: Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we're supposed to be and embracing who we are.