Turns Out, Self-Compassion is a Superpower

What happens when perfectionism no longer protects you—and how to heal what’s underneath.

Apr 11, 2025

silhouette of woman standing on seashore — Photo by Tomas Jasovsky on Unsplash

For years, I wore perfectionism like a badge of honour.
If I wasn’t hard on myself, who would be?
Self-criticism felt like fuel—what kept me going, achieving, showing up, holding it all together… especially when no one else noticed the cracks.

But here’s the truth: perfectionism is sneaky.
It dresses up as discipline, excellence, ambition. It tells you your standards are high. Your work ethic unmatched. But behind that shine? It's a relentless voice, whispering that you're only as good as your last accomplishment. That if you slow down, you’ll fall behind. That your worth is something you earn, not something you are.

That voice? I let it run the show for years.

I truly believed that if I wasn’t pushing myself, I was slacking.
If I made a mistake, I’d replay it on loop.
If something wasn’t perfect, it didn’t count.

Sound familiar?

Perfectionism convinces us our value lives in our output. That productivity is proof of purpose.
And so we keep going—checking boxes, chasing gold stars, running on fumes—all while ignoring the deep ache of never feeling quite… enough.

I know, because I lived it.

Growing up, I thought doing more—faster, better, stronger—was the key to being accepted. I wore achievement like armor. I used success to hide the parts of me that felt uncertain, overwhelmed, or simply tired.

But when life got real—burnout, motherhood, the kind of exhaustion that seeps into your soul—I didn’t have the tools to be gentle with myself. I had no idea how to show myself grace. Because I’d never been taught how.

So, I started the slow work of relearning.

Relearning looks like pausing mid-thought to ask, “Would I speak to a friend this way?”
It looks like finishing something at 80% and letting that be enough.
It looks like rest. Permission. Boundaries. Softness.

Some days I get it right. Other days, I catch myself spiraling back into old patterns.
But every day, I practice. Because self-compassion isn’t weakness—it’s courage wrapped in kindness.

And if you’re here too—wading through years of inner criticism, unlearning what no longer serves you—I want you to know: you’re not broken. You’re just healing.

Let’s stop being at war with ourselves.
Let’s trade shame for curiosity.
Let’s make space for a gentler kind of strength.

What I’m Learning (And You Can Too): Practical Ways to Practice Self-Compassion

Here are a few tools I’ve picked up along the way—small shifts that are helping me reclaim my peace:

Name the voice.
Give your inner critic an identity. Mine’s called the taskmaster. It helps me create distance between me and the negativity.
Try the best-friend filter.
When you're being harsh, pause and ask: “Would I say this to someone I love?” If not, it doesn't belong in your self-talk either.
Redefine what success looks like.
Not every win needs to be shiny. Some days, just showing up counts. Some days, rest is the greatest achievement.
Write a letter to yourself.
Once a month, I write a compassionate note to myself. It’s messy. It’s honest. Sometimes it makes me cry. But it’s healing—like a hug from within.
Unfollow perfection. Follow real.
I’m curating my world—social feeds, content, even conversations. I crave honesty over highlight reels. I’m leaning into messy, not manicured.

Your Turn: What Would It Look Like to Be Kinder to You?

Have you noticed your own inner voice getting a little too loud, too harsh, too heavy?
What would self-compassion look like for you this week?
Reply to this post, send me a message, or share this with someone who needs the reminder:

You don’t have to earn your rest.
You don’t have to perform your worth.
You can be growing and still be enough.

Let’s talk about it. Let’s relearn softness together.

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