Confessions of a recovering perfectionist

Totally honest and relatable. It’s such an effort silencing your inner mean girl.

Our Nourished Table

I am a recovering perfectionist.

And yet…if you asked people who know me on a basic level, if I was or ever had been a perfectionist, they would probably laugh in your face.

You see,
I have a wild mane of curly hair.
That I never brush.

My car is a mess.
Old coffee cups in the cup holders.
A windshield that desperately needs to be cleaned.

I have a bank account
that tends to dwindle
then rise
depending on the season.
Consistency is not my strong suit.

At first glance, I am the complete opposite of a perfectionist.

But, if you asked people that I’m the most vulnerable with, the people that truly see me, they would nod in agreement. I am indeed a recovering perfectionist.

When my perfectionism was at it’s worst, I couldn’t make a decision about anything. For example, exercise. I would sit in my house…

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