Recently, I had a crunchy $5,000 lesson in imperfection. While exiting the parking garage at Lifetime Fitness—a garage I’ve probably pulled out of a thousand times—I misjudged the narrow exit and sheared the side mirror clean off my SUV. Yep. Just hanging there like a busted earring. It was one of those moments that etches itself into your nervous system. Now, every time I drive in or out, I’m gripping the wheel like it’s a tightrope act. But something interesting happened after the accident. I started telling people. I’d find myself in the elevator, striking up conversations with unsuspecting gym members, warning them about the treacherous garage exit like some kind of Parking Garage Evangelist. It became a way to make meaning out of the mistake. If I could save just one person from the heartbreak of unexpected bodywork, maybe—just maybe—my pain wasn’t wasted. It got me thinking about how often we hide our missteps, especially if we identify (consciously or not) as perfectionists. According to research published in Psychological Bulletin, nearly 30% of undergraduates exhibit clinical levels of perfectionism, and the numbers are rising across all age groups. The World Health Organization even links perfectionism to increased risks of anxiety, depression, and burnout. It’s not just striving for excellence—it’s equating self-worth with flawless performance. And that’s a recipe for chronic dissatisfaction. I’ve learned (the hard way) that people don’t connect with your perfection. They connect with your humanity. When I speak to audiences, it’s never the polished parts of my life that draw nods and knowing smiles—it’s the messy bits. The heartbreaks. The ugly cries. The missteps that turned into milestones. As Brené Brown puts it: “Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we’re all in this together.” And Elizabeth Gilbert once wrote: “Perfectionism is just fear in fancy shoes and a mink coat, pretending to be elegant when actually it’s just terrified.” So, what’s the antidote? 1. Embrace Your Flawsomeness™ I trademarked this phrase in 2018, but I'm still learning to live it! There is zero shame in being a beautiful work in progress. The older I get, the more joy I find in saying, “Yep, that was me. Cracked mirror and all.” Confidence isn’t about having it all together—it’s about not needing to. 2. Laugh at Yourself (Often) Zumba class taught me this. When I totally botch a Samba move, instead of spiraling into self-judgment, I own the misstep—maybe even with an exaggerated hip swing for flair. Make it part of the dance. There’s magic in not taking yourself so seriously. 3. Turn Messes Into Messages Whether it’s a story for your next dinner party, a blog post, or a way to uplift a friend—your missteps are raw material for connection. Life isn’t a highlight reel. It’s a blooper reel full of bloops worth sharing. 4. Practice Self-Compassion Perfectionism says, “You are only as good as your latest achievement.” Self-compassion says, “You are enough, mistakes and all.” And the science backs it up: studies show that people who practice self-compassion have greater emotional resilience, lower stress, and healthier relationships. So the next time life goes sideways—whether it’s a mirror, a missed step, or a major letdown—try this: Take a breath. Tell the story. Make it part of the dance. Because your imperfections don’t disqualify you. They humanize you. And they just might be your most beautiful feature. Want to pass this along to a fellow perfectionist? Go ahead. You might just save someone a $5,000 repair—and a lifetime of unrealistic expectations. #Flawsome #ProgressOverPerfection #MakeItPartOfTheDance #BrenéSaidSo #RealIsTheNewPerfect

They say that expectation is the root of all heartache. And while Shakespeare may have said it differently, the sentiment rings true—especially in a world where we’ve been conditioned to strive, hustle, pursue, and plan every second of joy like it’s a productivity metric to be hit.

Ouch! Have you ever experienced progress or growth — a dream unfolding, a door opening, a blessing flowing — and suddenly it gets cut back? It’s easy to feel like something’s gone wrong. The initial sting tends to activate our inner critic. "I should have seen it coming!" "How could I have made such a foolish mistake?" "When will I ever learn?" After a recent disappointment, I lost heart. And then a friend reminded me about pruning. Pruning cuts away what looks alive. It trims even healthy growth so that the branch can thrive in the long term, bearing more fruit, richer fruit, lasting fruit. Without pruning, a plant will eventually get overgrown, tangled, and weak. Its energy will be scattered instead of focused. Its best potential will be stifled under the weight of too many branches. A master gardener sees what we cannot. They know when a branch is carrying too much. They know when old blooms, though beautiful once, are now stealing strength from what could be. They know that cutting back isn’t cruelty; it’s care. Knowing that I am a person of faith, my friend quoted John 15:2 where Jesus says: “Every branch that bears fruit, He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” Pruning i sn't punishment. It's not because we're failing. Pruning is preparation for a future harvest we can't yet imagine. In the midst of a disappointment, a broken heart, or the death of a dream, it's hard to believe that there could be something more and better than what you've lost. But while you have breath, it's never too late to dream another dream. I know, you thought, "This is IT!" And then, it wasn't. Feel all the feelings. Mourn the turn of events. But don't milk it for too long. Because (this bears repeating): While you have breath, it's never too late to dream another dream. One that will make the old one jealous, it's so much better. That burst of blooming? It wasn't wrong. But it had to be trimmed to channel the plant’s energy into even greater flourishing. The blessing wasn’t a mistake. It was a beginning. If you are in a season where it feels like life is being trimmed, shaped, or even painfully cut back — take heart. I'm not dismissing the pain. Pruning feels like loss. Like failure. Even rejection. But consider that instead of being cast aside, you are being cultivated.. You are not being punished. You are being prepared for something greater. And I can't wait to wa tch it bloom, for you AND me.

The word "nice" always felt "meh" to me. But life has me rethinking this word, because I'm experiencing how powerful nice can be. For half a year, I've been friends with David Wetherelt and our conversations are rich with meaning. He says things, and I find myself thinking about them for days to come. Then he does things that make my heart crunch. This was best displayed when traveling for work in January. I would have missed a church event that mattered to me. So he brought me on his phone (and put a tiara atop his device.)

Bleary-eyed and still un-caffeinated, I stumbled to my backyard to get early morning sun in my eyes as recommended by my celeb crush, Andrew Huberman .

No matter what I did, the tree wouldn't light up.

We don't get to choose what happens to us in life, but we do get to choose how we respond to these events. Even the most painful of losses, betrayals, disappointments, and heartbreaks can lead to beautiful outcomes. Maybe it's time to see your past through new eyes.

Is your life like a pair of stilettos one size too small?

How does the pit of your stomach feel on a Sunday night?