Perfectionism was my silent addiction long before I ever picked up a drink. I thought if I could just do better, be better, look better, hold it all together — maybe then I’d finally feel safe, loved, and enough. That’s precisely why I drank and used. But perfectionism is a trap. It tells you that your worth is tied to how flawless you can appear — not how real you allow yourself to be. For years, I tried to outrun my pain by chasing impossible standards. When I couldn’t keep up, alcohol became the escape. And that spiral nearly took me out. In recovery, I had to unlearn everything perfectionism taught me. That mistakes are fatal. That rest is weakness. That vulnerability is failure. It hasn’t been easy — but it’s been freeing. I’m learning to embrace the messy, imperfect parts of myself. To show up as human, not superhuman. And to stop measuring my value by what I accomplish or how I appear. If perfectionism has kept you stuck, anxious, or disconnected from yourself, I’d love to share space with you. Let’s talk about what it means to be real instead of perfect — and how much peace that can bring.