### Releasing Perfectionism: A Path from Shame to Self-Worth

Throughout a significant portion of my life, my self-identity was tied to being a perfectionist and an overachiever. My walls showcased diplomas, my shelves overflowed with race medals, and my CV reflected a lifetime of relentless effort. Yet now, all those emblems of success are tucked away—diplomas in a box, race medals discarded, and I avoid my CV as it’s a reminder of discomfort rather than pride. What shifted? The understanding that I was pursuing an unattainable standard of self-worth through outside approval, which left me feeling empty, drained, and disconnected from my true self.

I’ve realized that my unyielding quest for success was less about ambition and more about an urgent desire for validation. Behind every achievement lay an unvoiced cry: “Tell me I’m alright… that I’m loved… that I belong.” This insatiable drive to demonstrate my value in society influenced my unhealthy relationship with food, evolving into anorexia nervosa. Often mischaracterized as an aesthetic issue, anorexia for me was about the need for control, invisibility, and numbing the overwhelming shame inside. I thought that perfection would protect me from judgment and suffering, a falsehood that only escalated my anguish.

### The Connection Between Perfectionism and Shame

In **Brené Brown’s book, *Atlas of the Heart***, she portrays perfectionism as stemming from the fear of “What will people think?”—a performance fueled by the longing for outside acknowledgment. Brown sets this against healthy striving, which arises from genuine internal motivations to develop and enhance oneself. To me, perfectionism wasn’t a commendable chase for excellence; it was a defense mechanism against the unbearable vulnerability of being perceived as flawed or unworthy.

Brown labels shame as “the birthplace of perfectionism.” That insight struck me profoundly because it summed up my battles accurately. Shame, that pervasive feeling of inadequacy, had shaped the storyline of my existence. Shame told me I was insufficient, while perfectionism masqueraded as the remedy. However, the more I endeavored to achieve or establish control, the more alienated I grew—from joy, relationships, and my own body. My world constricted, and rather than safeguarding me, perfectionism transformed into the cage that separated me from authenticity, self-expression, and connection.

### The Influence of Perfectionism on Anxiety and Isolation

Reflecting on my past, my perfectionism contributed to performance anxiety and self-inflicted seclusion. I abandoned activities I once relished because I doubted my ability to be the best, questioning, “What’s the point of trying if I can’t win?” Each time I imposed impossibly high standards, I undermined myself by nurturing my fear of failure. Instead of celebrating small victories or progress, I perceived anything less than perfection as a setback, deepening my internal narrative of unworthiness.

Rather than building connections, perfectionism created distance from others. In contrasting my “flaws” with others’ strengths, I set myself against an unrealistic benchmark. I couldn’t see those around me as the intricate, multifaceted individuals they were—I only noticed my shortcomings. I feared that they were silently judging me for my inadequacies, a projection stemming from my own severe self-judgment. It formed a vicious cycle: the more I compared myself to others, the more inadequate I felt, and the harder I tried to compensate, fueling shame and perpetuating perfectionism.

### Breaking Free from the Cycle of Shame and Perfectionism

For years, shame silenced me. Even in therapy, I found it difficult to articulate or delve into the deeper emotions driving my perfectionism. Discussing my difficulties openly made me feel nauseous. I feared that revealing my vulnerabilities would validate the painful narrative I clung to: that I was undeserving of the trust and care I desperately sought. Shame thrived in my silence, echoing harsh messages like, “You’re wasting everyone’s time. No one cares. You’re not enough.”

Eventually, I took a tiny step and gathered the courage to say, “I am struggling.” This proclamation—though frightening—sparked a shift. Shame despises being acknowledged. Voicing my truth chipped away at the control shame held over me, and I began to recognize that my perfectionist impulses weren’t the answer; they were part of the issue.

### Acknowledging the Inner Perfectionist—But Releasing Her

In contemplating my journey, I’ve decided not to demonize the part of me that seeks perfection. She had her role and aimed to shield me when I lacked healthier coping strategies for shame. Yet her approach was fundamentally flawed, costing me dearly—my joy, my health, and my sense of