Everyone said Jordan was the most organized person in her company. She ran cross-functional projects without dropping a single deliverable. She overlaid process on new initiatives, which freed her colleagues to do their best work. Her boss called her indispensable.
She was also drowning from a work week that consistently stole nights and weekends. She reworked tasks, updates, and recommendations—everything needed to be flawless. That included what came across her desk and what she pulled from her team. She believed she could fix it faster than she could teach it.
During her 360 feedback session, Jordan admitted that she was a perfectionist. Most of what she reworked was already good enough to move forward. Most of what she took on from others was a development opportunity she was stealing from her team. “I don’t know what more to say about it. I’ve been that way for a while.”
“Where else is this showing up?” I asked.
She didn’t answer right away. After a silent minute, she apologized.
“No apologies needed, Jordan.”
I asked what was behind her emotion. She said it was about mistakes she made along the way, choices that taught her the world punishes you for getting it wrong.
Her painstakingness looked like dedication, but it was actually a form of protection. She built her thoroughness the way someone builds a wall, one careful brick at a time. Then she named it: “I think it’s trust. I don’t trust myself enough.”
I asked her to describe a recent time she did trust herself. She recalled being asked to speak on a panel at a conference. She had spent days scripting, but standing on the empty stage the night before, she felt the weight of the script. She chose to set it aside, she spoke from conviction, and the room responded.
Jordan didn’t overhaul her approach to work. She began making small, deliberate moves. She shares the vision for her new strategic area with her boss and one colleague before it’s fully formed. She lets a team member lead a project and commits to staying available as a guide rather than taking it back.
Habits twenty years in the making don’t dissolve overnight. It requires commitment, recommitment, and people willing to notice what you can’t on your own.
Perfection is protection from being seen before you’re ready. Trust is the courage to be visible while the work— and the leader— are still advancing.
THE QUESTION
Where in your leadership are you protecting yourself from being seen while still advancing?
“Understanding the difference between healthy striving and perfectionism is critical to laying down the shield and picking up your life.” — Brené Brown