What I Thought Healing Would Be (Thanks, Maladaptive Perfectionism)
Let’s be real: maladaptive perfectionism is like that mother-in-law who shows up uninvited and starts reorganizing your kitchen.
At first, it seems helpful. Motivating, even. You tell yourself, “Well… she means well.”
But next thing you know, everything’s in a “better” place… and you can’t find a damn thing anymore.
That’s what perfectionism does to your healing.
It comes in hot with good intentions, starts rearranging everything, and leaves you completely disconnected from what you actually need.
Suddenly, you're obsessing over how “well” you're doing therapy. Shaming yourself for still struggling. Treating recovery like a full-time job, with zero PTO.
And if you’ve lived through emotional neglect, chronic pressure to perform, or the kind of trauma that never got named but shaped everything? Then you already know: perfectionism isn’t just about high standards. It’s about safety. Survival. Control.
And yup, it follows you straight into your healing.
When Perfectionism Becomes Manager of Your Recovery
There was a time I thought I had it all figured out. I’d show up to therapy with my journal in hand, a perfectly worded summary of my week, and three takeaways I thought my therapist would love. I wasn’t just doing the work, I was excelling at it.
Looking back?
I was trying to heal without ever letting myself be seen in the mess.
So, let’s get into it. Here’s what I thought healing would be, back when I still believed I had to earn my way out of pain, and what it actually looks like now that I’m learning to let go.
What I Thought Healing Would Be
At one point, I was completely convinced that healing from trauma would look something like this:
Waking up at 6am to walk, journal and meditate
Leaving every therapy session with a breakthrough
Eating intuitively with zero food noise
Never dissociating or shutting down again
Crying a few times, processing everything, and moving on
Talking about my trauma without feeling anything
Healing in a straight line with predictable progress
Getting metaphorical gold stars from my therapist
Feeling “normal” again, and fast
It wasn’t just a fantasy. It was a full-blown performance. I thought if I could just do healing the way it should look, I’d never have to feel unsafe or ashamed again.
But perfectionism is all that safe. It’s just another form of control.
What Healing Actually Looks Like
The real healing? It’s slower. Quieter. More sacred than I expected. And yes, much messier.
Some days I feel grounded and present. Other days I dissociate in the middle of making dinner and have to remind myself I’m okay. Both count.
Here’s a taste of what it actually looks like:
Still waking up anxious, and offering myself softness instead of shame
Missing therapy and not spiraling about it
Letting rest count as progress, not failure
Relearning the same lesson for the hundredth time
Crying in random places and letting that be okay
Pausing mid-trigger and whispering, “I’m still here”
Accepting that some things heal slowly, and that’s not a problem
Practicing presence, not performance
Letting myself be witnessed without being polished
Real healing isn’t about doing it right. It’s about learning how to stay with yourself when it’s hard.
How Maladaptive Perfectionism Gets in the Way of Recovery
Let’s pause and name this clearly: maladaptive perfectionism is a trauma response.
It’s not a personality flaw or a motivational quirk.
It’s what happens when your nervous system decides that being perfect is the only way to stay safe.
And when it seeps into your healing, it can truly sabotage the entire process.
Here’s how:
1. It turns healing into a performance.
You’re focused on appearing “better” instead of actually feeling better. You worry more about what your therapist thinks than what your body needs.
2. It creates shame when you’re still struggling.
Every setback feels like proof that you’re failing. Even normal dysregulation becomes something to “fix.”
3. It pushes you to overfunction.
You try to heal through effort and overthinking, instead of slowing down enough to feel. Rest feels threatening.
4. It disconnects you from your body.
Healing becomes a mental checklist instead of a relational process with your nervous system.
5. It makes self-compassion feel like a luxury.
You can’t offer yourself kindness unless you’ve earned it. Spoiler: compassion is the work. It’s not optional.
So if healing feels hard, overwhelming, or like something you’re constantly doing “wrong” this might be what’s underneath it.
What I’m Practicing Now
I will never consider myself “perfectly” healed. I’m healing.
I still hear the perfectionist voice from time to time, especially when things feel out of control. But I’m learning and practicing how to pause. To soften. To remind myself that I’m already safe enough to be in process.
Here are a few things I’ve been practicing (with lots of room for do-overs):
Letting good enough actually be enough
Catching the inner overachiever before she takes the wheel
Choosing presence over performance
Giving myself permission to be seen in the mess
Measuring progress in micro-moments, not milestones
Resting even when it feels uncomfortable
Asking, “What part of me feels unsafe right now?” instead of “What’s wrong with me?”
You don’t have to be perfect to be healing. You just have to keep showing up, with your full, messy, magical humanity.
That’s where the real repair begins.
Want a Little Support Letting Go of the Pressure to Do It Perfectly?
Introducing: The “Good Enough Healing” Journal Kit
3 grounding questions to interrupt the inner overachiever
A short, body-based check-in you can do in 60 seconds
A self-compassion reframe to use when you feel like you're “failing” at healing
This isn’t about doing more. It’s about doing less with more presence.
Or if you’re ready to go deeper, we’re here to support you through that process.
At Reclaim Therapy, our team specializes in helping folks heal from trauma, perfectionism, and the survival strategies that once kept them safe, but are now keeping them stuck.
Whether you’re navigating complex PTSD, eating disorder recovery, or working to reconnect with your body in a way that actually feels safe, you're not alone.
Schedule a free consultation to get started.
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