Perfectionism Almost Stopped Me, But I Did It Anyway

Originally posted on February 10, 2025, from my previous blog. A raw reflection on how perfectionism tried to derail my day from the start, but I managed to push through the mess, show up, and prove that imperfect progress still counts.

This morning, I woke up at 6 AM sharp, determined to stick to the schedule I had carefully mapped out.

Today wasn’t just another Monday. It was Day 1 of my Keto journey. The day I’d planned for. The day I was going to get back on track.

I had scheduled everything between 6 AM and 8 AM—enough time to wake up, get on the treadmill, do my devotional, shower, and be fully ready for work.

• 6 AM – Wake up
• 6:15 AM – Treadmill
• 7 AM – Devotional
• 7:30 AM – Shower & get ready
• 8 AM – Work

Everything was supposed to go smoothly.

Then, before anything else, I stepped on the scale.

The Moment That Stopped Me

The number 300 lbs stared back at me.

I’ve never seen that number before in my life.

I stood there for a moment, frozen. My stomach twisted, my heart pounded, and a wave of something I couldn’t quite name—disappointment? Frustration? Panic?—washed over me.

I’ve been close to this number before, but never here. Never at the edge of it, looking at three big, round digits that shouldn’t belong to me.

I didn’t like it.

Maybe that’s what set everything off.

Chasing Time, Losing Control

Right after weighing myself, I moved on to the next step of the plan: measuring my ketones and glucose. This was supposed to be part of my morning routine, a way to track my progress from day one.

But then I couldn’t find the meter.

I checked its usual spot in the pantry—nothing.
Ran to my office, checked my drawers—empty.
Went to the bedroom, looked around—still not there.
Backpack? Not there either.

I was tearing through my space, my hands rummaging through everything, my heart racing.

Panic started creeping in—not just because the meter was missing, but because time was slipping away. It was already past 6:30 AM, and I wasn’t on the treadmill yet. The schedule was already off.

The moment I lost control of my timing, anxiety took over.

Was it just about the meter? Maybe. Or maybe it was the weight of everything I was trying to fix all at once.

I sat there, surrounded by the mess I had just made, and realized something:

This is perfectionism. This is exactly what it does to me.

I wasn’t panicking because of the number on the scale.
I wasn’t panicking because I lost my meter.
I was panicking because things weren’t going exactly as I had planned.

Finally, Movement

After a deep breath, I forced myself onto the treadmill. It wasn’t exactly at the right time. It wasn’t according to plan. But at this point, I just needed to start.

I walked for 30 minutes, speed between 4.5-5 km (because for some reason my treadmill refuses to switch to miles). Apple Watch said I burned 200 calories.

But more than the numbers, what really mattered was that my mind finally slowed down.

I was listening to Kieran Culkin on the Smartless podcast, laughing along with the gang, and suddenly, I wasn’t overthinking anymore. The half-hour flew by. The anxiety that had gripped me so tightly earlier started to loosen.

And that’s when I knew:

Perfectionism wants me to be all-or-nothing. But I don’t have to listen to it.

Faith & Checking the Box

After my workout, I sat down to read my devotional.

And I’ll be honest—I just sped through it.

I read Psalm 115, but I didn’t take notes. I barely reflected. Honestly? It felt like I was just ticking a box.

But as much as I wanted to criticize myself for not being fully present, I stopped myself.

Because even if I wasn’t 100% engaged, I still showed up.

And that has to count for something.

The Day Turned Out Fine Anyway

As much as my morning felt chaotic, by the time I took a step back, I realized something:

I actually got a lot done.

✔ Lunch was already prepped from yesterday—so no stress.
✔ Got some morning work done—even if it wasn’t perfect.
✔ Had a productive team meeting—felt on top of things.
✔ Kept up with my schoolwork—no delays.
✔ Even cooked my second batch meal in the afternoon—so future me is taken care of.

Before 6 PM, I had checked off everything I needed to.

And yet, my mind still wanted to tell me I was behind.

That’s when I had to stop myself.

Perfectionism Is the Real Enemy

This morning, my perfectionism told me:
“If the day doesn’t start right, it’s already ruined.”
“If you don’t follow the plan exactly, you’re failing.”
“If it’s not done perfectly, it doesn’t count.”

And yet, here I was at the end of the day, having done everything I set out to do.

It wasn’t perfect. It was messy. It was anxiety-ridden at the start.

But progress still happens, even when it’s imperfect.

I still got on the treadmill.
I still read my devotional.
I still showed up for work and school.
I still kept going.

And that’s what matters.

What I’m Taking With Me

Today was supposed to be the first day of a new journey. But instead of feeling strong and determined, I started the morning anxious, panicked, and thrown off.

And yet?

I still did the damn thing.

I didn’t let a late start, a bad morning, or a number on a scale dictate my entire day.

As Anne Lamott once said:

“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life.”

That’s exactly what it feels like. It wants to trap me in the idea that I have to do everything just right, or it doesn’t count.

But I’m not going to let it win.

So here’s to pushing through, showing up, and letting go of the need to be perfect.

Because at the end of the day?

I’m still moving forward.