General George Patton said, “A good plan today is better than a perfect plan tomorrow.”

As a recovering perfectionist, I’ve seen how striving for perfection in everything—plans, work, relationships—once fueled my success but came at a cost. Early on, this mindset helped me achieve, but it also trapped me in endless cycles of improvement, costing me meaningful moments of connection. Instead of just getting out there and acting with good enough knowledge, I often held back until everything was “just right.” I believed this would make me special – and I needed to be special.

My inner perfectionist emerged early, especially around academics. She created systems that helped me excel and feel accepted, and for a time, it worked. After all, striving for excellence is a good thing, right? But as many perfectionists will recognize, the trouble starts when “better” is never enough.

This compulsion consumed time. In my professional life, I found myself working 60-70 hours a week instead of 40-50, trying to perfect not just my own work but also managing, planning, and training others. My endless tweaking became an addiction—earning me the label of “workaholic.”

My wake-up call came when three co-worker friends staged an intervention over lunch. They saw the toll my perfectionism was taking and wanted to help. That moment helped me realize that my perfectionism/workaholism wasn’t something to take pride in, that it was an obsession that had taken me over, one that I didn’t control. It took many years and more support to make and maintain change. An assessment called Positive Intelligence, confirmed the dominance of my “Stickler Saboteur.” Work with Internal Family Systems (IFS) made her more personal. My little Frannie Fixer, with her clipboard, hard hat, and executive attire, all of about 8 years old. With compassionate from mindfulness, she has now been given a proper place on the team, a contributing member but not the boss.

How do I know I’ve made progress in my recovery? Well, today marks the deadline for my final test in a mindfulness meditation teacher certification program. After two years, and many requirements, including teaching, this is the last measurement. Passing requires 80%. You must retake if you don’t get at least 80% and you can retake even if you get a higher score. (You see the perfectionist’s trap, right?) In my first attempt, I scored a 92 which immediately generated a congratulatory certificate from the program. My old self would’ve retaken the test to get 100, just to see that perfect score. My evolved self briefly considered it, but asked: Why?

I realized I didn’t need to see that. I had passed. I was able to let it go and embrace the joy of being good today rather than perfect tomorrow.

Here’s to you releasing your perfectionism—or whatever behavior is limiting you—and embracing your most joyful life!