In the beginning, I hovered over my plants impatiently. Working hard to create the perfect, beautiful garden I had dreamt of.

Then it happened – the first plant began to die.

I felt as though my chest was about to cave in with the pain of getting it wrong. The feeling growing louder and more vicious when those around me would see it too.

For some – this feels like an extreme reaction. For fellow perfectionists, you have an idea of the discomfort I mean, don’t you?

This is because perfectionism ties our own self-worth to how “perfect” our lives appear. Maybe you can’t leave the house without makeup, or you don’t share responsibilities at work because you believe no one else will do things the “right” way. In my case, my thoughts could be roughly translated as:

“My plant has died > I’m a useless gardener > I am useless”

Perfectionism often comes from childhood praise for doing well and harsh criticism, neglect, or abuse when things went wrong. When mistakes happen, especially in front of others, it can feel overwhelmingly shameful – so we force ourselves to appear perfect always.

A swan floating gently down the river but paddling madly underneath.

When my plant died, I tried desperately to fix it, but the more I tried, the worse it got. I eventually stopped visiting my garden, avoiding the failure. When I returned however, I saw new growth.

Nature had flourished in the space I gave it by stepping back and letting go. So, I decided to only tend to my plants once a week. Over time, they began to bloom in gratitude.

I saw first hand what could happen when I stopped trying to control the outcome, so now when a plant is unhappy, I simply ask, “What can I do?” and do what I can and then let go, trusting that nature will take its course – whether that means the plant dies or grows stronger. There is now an acceptance of either outcome.

Sometimes, a dead tree becomes a home for wildlife, and dead leaves nourish new growth. Life works like that too – when something ends, new things grow in its place. With that in mind, failures are starting to feel less heavy for me. Understanding that they’re not only acceptable, but also essential nourishment for what can come after.

So now when a plant dies in my garden, instead of being riddled with anxiety and grief – I just accept it for what it is – I even get excited for the space, knowing I can now grow something new.

I’ve taken this lesson in my everyday life – when a project fails, when a friendship ends, or when I feel in pain – a mantra now whispers: “I wonder what will now grow from this space that has been made?”

If you struggle with perfectionism, working with a counsellor can help you find peace and ease in life. I understand how difficult it can be and would love to help. Reach out today for a session.