It’s 6:45 am on a Saturday morning, I’m on my second cup of coffee, have a load of laundry in, a two-mile run planned for later this morning before the rain starts (it’s an unseasonably warm winter day in New England), along with lots of kid stuff, planning an upcoming vacation, and date night tonight with the husband to reconnect. Plus, there are thoughts—so many thoughts—swirling around my head as if I have 1000 different boxes open at once, and I’m already working. This is what it’s like being a type-A, high-functioning, anxiety-driven perfectionist.

It’s exhausting. Mentally and physically.

More than that, perfectionism is like a disease that spreads systemically through your life, sapping the joy. I’m always doing. It’s never enough. And I’m judging, judging, judging myself at every turn. I’m not kind to myself and obsessively focus on lack: What’s not there, what’s not working, what didn’t go right. It blocks me from seeing all the amazing things that are working, the beauty around me, the miracles that are happening right in front of me. 

For years people have told me, with the best of intentions, to “lighten up,” “relax” and “be kinder to myself.” I tried. I did. And I tried with the vigor of the type-A, high-functioning, anxiety-driven person that I am. And I couldn’t do any of those things with any consistency; I was never able to break free of the heavy burden of perfectionism.

Until last year. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. My life exploded with uncertainty and a forced loss of control—flinging me off the perfectionist train that I had been riding for decades. I saw how the years of harshing on myself, pushing myself, and beating myself up physically and emotionally played a part in my getting cancer. Maybe not directly, but indirectly feeding the engine of that never-enough train. Suddenly, my perfectionism wasn’t just bad behavior, it was affecting my health. And if I truly wanted to get healthy—and I did—then I had to get to the heart of the matter, to the ground zero of where perfection breeds. 

At the root of perfectionism are belief systems around how to behave, how to live, and how we explain why things happen. From these beliefs, we learn to judge ourselves. As children, we create these belief systems, influenced by our parents or caregivers. We didn’t necessarily choose these beliefs, but we surrender to them unconsciously, and they become laws in our minds—our truth. We want to please our parents, we want to be liked, we want to do “good.” This is where it starts.

For perfectionists, our laws go something like this:

• “I must always be perfect.”

• “I’m not good enough.”

• “I should get everything right.”

• “If I don’t do this perfectly, then everything will fall apart.”

• “If I don’t do this perfectly, I will get hurt.”

• “I want people to like me.”

• “I’m not doing enough.”

Perfectionists will tend to be the judge and jury of their lives, as Don Miguel Ruiz says in his book, “The Four Agreements.” The judge presides over every move we make, constantly deliberating as to whether or not we are living up to the laws we have created, never ruling in our favor—and using laws that don’t even serve us. Not a very fair system. This is not justice.

Where does the anxiety come in? Well, anxiety is a perfectionist’s best friend. It’s like the gas in the perfectionist’s car, the fuel that drives the fear of not being good enough and to keep on driving forward. 

To begin to lift the burden of perfectionism, we have to first become aware of the laws that we are allowing to govern us. And then as the judge, we need to throw them out and rewrite them so that they serve us instead.

My rewritten perfectionist’s laws:

• “I am enough.”

• “I love and accept myself.”

• “My worth doesn’t depend on my productivity.”

• “My worth doesn’t depend on my work.”

• “I do not have to be perfect. I am human, and I am doing the best that I can.”

• “There is no reason to live up to impossible standards.”

• “Things won’t fall apart if I don’t single-handedly keep them going. And if they do, then they weren’t meant to be.”

Now, I’ve become vigilant in living by my new laws. I have to be. I recite them often, make them visible, write them down, repeat them in my head. I begin the day thinking of three things I love about myself and three things that I’m grateful for. I recall my new laws over and over; and occasionally, I’ll default to the new laws over the old. When it happens, I notice it, relish it even, staying in the positive zone for a few seconds. A shift has begun. Now these moments of new thinking happen more frequently, and eventually the new laws will become stronger than the old.

Letting go, slowing down, and softening is also key. Perfectionists like control because it makes them feel safe. But it is a painful way to live. Now, I practice letting go by caring a little less about one thing coming up. Try to choose one thing. Maybe it’s a work project or what someone thinks. Take a deep breath and tell yourself it’s all good and everything will work out how it is supposed to work out—even if you don’t fully believe it. Now, the judge will try swoop in here and rule against the new caring-less laws. But just keep gently overruling, with self compassion, telling yourself it’s going to be okay.

Even when things don’t work out as you had expected or wanted, allow the chips to fall where they may, and work to accept it, as it helps get you closer to where you need to be. For years, I have forced my expert control mojo to make things happen, many of which probably shouldn’t have worked out that way—and wouldn’t save for my sheer force of will. There have been jobs I have taken, plans made, vacations scheduled, friendships continued, all because I felt I “should.” They weren’t the right things for me in hindsight. There is more power in letting go and believing the universe will support you, because it will. Things will work out; maybe not the way we have planned, but possibly much, much better. 

There is an upside to perfectionism: The sheer will and motivation creates a deep well of energy and drive for achievement. It has served me well. I was the editor in chief of a magazine at age 31, I have had a career that included being on all the major news networks, I’ve changed careers several times, I’ve written a book while working full time and raising two young children, and on and on. I’ve worked hard, really hard. But here’s the thing that we perfectionists forget: You don’t have to struggle to be successful. You don’t. And joy isn’t the result of struggle. Joy is the result of joy. 

I’m a work in progress. As you can see from the Saturday morning routine, I sometimes slip back into old ways, especially when I feel overwhelmed. I also have to remind myself to be compassionate and forgiving when the shifts aren’t happening as often or quickly as I would like. But when you begin to rewrite your laws of perfectionism, an entirely new world opens up. A world of possibility, miracles, joy, lightness, letting go of control, of flow, of kindness for yourself and others. Most importantly, it uncovers the real you underneath the perfectionism, and that is the best miracle of all.