You’re doing everything “right.” Tracking sleep. Optimizing food. Hitting your workouts. Staying on top of it all. But beneath the surface? You feel tired. Disconnected. Like no matter how well you perform, something’s still off. This piece is about the hidden cost of perfectionism — and how real healing begins not with doing more, but with reconnecting to what actually restores.
(In tomorrow’s paid subscriber guide, I’ll share small, body-centered practices to help you soften the perfectionist grip and build real resilience — without abandoning your drive. You’ll also get access to a 2-minute guided meditation you can use anytime your “just one more thing” voice kicks in — to help your nervous system feel safe enough to rest.)
I’m a Type A person.
Not just Type A — capital A, bolded, underlined.
I track my sleep. I fine-tune my diet. I hit my workouts. I want to optimize everything — even my stress. I have listened to meditation books on 2x speed so I can be efficient about relaxing.
Perfectionism has always felt like a strength, a badge of honor. Work hard, stay on top of things, be the one who delivers. But here’s what I’ve been learning — and honestly, what I’ve been wrestling with:
Perfectionism isn’t a badge. It’s a wound.
On the outside, it looks like determination, achievement, high standards. But underneath, it’s often driven by fear: fear of falling short, fear of losing control, fear of not being worthy if we stop performing. That’s what makes it a wound. It’s not ambition itself that hurts us — it’s the way perfectionism ties our worth to constant doing, leaving no room for rest, softness, or simply being enough as we are.
And here’s what’s been even more confronting: the deeper I dive into the science of health, the clearer it becomes that my own perfectionism — this relentless drive to control, optimize, and produce — has been hurting me. My perfectionist part couldn’t ignore the evidence: despite all its best efforts, I wasn’t achieving all the health outcomes we valued. In trying so hard to secure perfection, it was actually standing in the way of real healing.
The Data My Perfectionist Part Couldn’t Ignore
I regularly get a solid 7.5 to 8.5 hours of sleep each night. On paper, I should be winning. But when I check my tracker, one of the numbers that matter — the deep sleep, the restorative phase my body needs to heal and regulate — can sometimes be less than half of what it should be.
No matter how well I control the inputs — bedtime, hygiene, routine — I can’t force myself into deep sleep. My perfectionist part, the one that thinks it can muscle through anything, is hitting a wall.
And then something curious happened.
I went to a four-hour improv class with friends. I laughed. I played. I let go. And yet, even as I played, I could feel my perfectionist part subtly whispering in the background: reminding me of the work I was missing, the household tasks left undone, the time I could have spent with my kids to be a more “perfect” dad. Even joy came with a ledger — the quiet voice tracking what else I should have been doing.
That night, my deep sleep shot up over an hour — right into the ideal zone.
Not because I tried harder. Not because I added another health hack. But because I stepped off the gas and finally gave my body what it was starving for: connection, play, joy.
And here’s what shocked me: my body didn’t care about what I “knew” in my head — that perfectionism was exhausting me, that I should slow down. It only responded when I lived that truth. That was the moment the badge of honor fell away, and I could see the wound underneath.
This was a crossroads moment: where the perfectionist part of me — the one doing all the pushing, all the optimizing, all the controlling — realized it was actually getting in the way of the rest, repair, and deep healing my body needed. It finally lifted its head and recognized:
This matters. This counts. This is part of the work.
Michael Jordan Can’t Stay on the Court for 60 Minutes — Neither Can You
Even the greatest basketball player, Michael Jordan, had an optimal amount of court time for the team to win — about 40 minutes, not the full 60.
If you pushed him beyond that, his performance dropped. His shots fell short, his reactions slowed. Not because he wasn’t great, but because even the best need rest, recovery, and recalibration to stay at their peak.
But here’s what most people miss: It wasn’t just up to Jordan to decide when to step off the court — the coach and team actively managed his time, protecting him from burnout so they could protect the win. Jordan didn’t see those bench minutes as failure. He trusted that long-term excellence required strategic rest, not just relentless presence.
In the same way, you can’t just keep pushing yourself. You can’t optimize every waking minute and expect your system to thrive. True resilience comes when you build systems — in your schedule, in your relationships, in your own inner dialogue — that protect your capacity by deliberately pulling you back, not waiting for exhaustion to force you down.
The Science You’re Probably Missing: Why Connection Heals at the Cellular Level
Here’s the part most health conversations miss — and the part research is now making clear.
Your body’s cells are not passive. They are listening.
They’re listening not just to your diet, exercise, or sleep — but to how your nervous system feels. Are you moving through your days with a deep sense of safety, connection, and purpose? Or are you living in a state of chronic intensity — pushing, bracing, striving, and worrying?
Here’s the surprising part:
When your nervous system feels like you’re under constant pressure or threat, your body flips on a powerful, deep biological program — a cellular-level stress response designed for survival.
This stress pattern ramps up inflammation, weakens antiviral defenses, and reshapes tissue in ways that promote the spread of cancer cells. In other words: even if you’re eating clean, working out, and hitting all your physical health metrics, if your nervous system is locked in a state of isolation, urgency, hypervigilance, or trying to control your environment, your biology is still operating under the shadow of threat.
You can’t biohack your way around the biology of safety and connection.
And yes — we all know that practices like meditation, tai chi, and breathwork can help regulate the nervous system. But let’s be honest: most people struggle to do them consistently. They often live in the “should” category — another thing we know is good for us, but struggle to prioritize.
What fewer people realize is this:
Connection — real, relational, emotionally meaningful connection — is just as powerful as those practices. And in some cases, the science suggests it may be even more potent.
In fact, studies have shown that prosocial connection — feeling seen, supported, and emotionally safe with others — plays a uniquely powerful role in turning off the same stress-related gene expression patterns that meditation and tai chi influence. Connection isn’t just emotionally meaningful; it’s biologically regulating.
When you feel supported, safe, connected, and purposeful, your nervous system recalibrates. It sends the signal to your immune system:
“We’re safe now. You can step out of defense mode. You can rest, repair, and heal.”
This isn’t just about “reducing stress” in a general sense. It’s about giving your body the felt experience of safety — not just through mindfulness or movement, but through play, presence, and meaningful human relationship.
You Don’t Have to Wait for the Crash
Here’s the heartbreak I’ve seen again and again: We tell ourselves we can’t rest unless we physically can’t push anymore.
We tell ourselves we can’t take a week off for self-care — but if we land in the hospital with a heart attack, suddenly we have to take a week off to recover. We refuse to slow down because we think it makes us weak — yet if our bodies force us to stop, then somehow it feels justified.
What if you didn’t wait for the crash? What if you didn’t wait for your body to rebel before you gave yourself permission to care, connect, and recalibrate?
What kind of rest are you waiting to take? What kind of laughter, connection, or joy are you postponing until the crisis hits? And what if — just for today — you stopped waiting?
Even small moments matter. A shared laugh. A night of play. A moment where you let yourself be, without trying to fix or improve anything.
These are not “breaks” from health work. They are the health work.
So here’s what I’ve done: I signed up for more fun activities.
And yes, my perfectionist part is still on the fence — part of it knows this is probably good for my health, my joy, my resilience; and part of it can’t help but tally up what I won’t be “productively” doing during those hours. I’m still learning how to hold that tension, to let both voices be there, and to keep practicing anyway.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
You are more than your productivity. You are more than your optimization. You are a human being, wired for healing in the space between you and the people and world you love.
And that is where the real magic lives.
Gentle Sharing Invitation from Dr. Alona & Dr. Matt
If this piece resonated with you, we’d be deeply grateful if you’d consider sharing it with a friend or loved one.
Your word-of-mouth not only helps this work reach more people — it’s one of the most meaningful ways you can support us and help make this space sustainable. Together, we can create a community where more of us feel seen, supported, and less alone.
Thank you for being here, for reading, and for walking this imperfect path alongside us.
Tomorrow: A Deeper Dive for Paid Subscribers
In tomorrow’s paid subscriber guide, we’ll help you move from insight to practice — with small, embodied experiments designed to gently interrupt the cycle of pushing, bracing, and “just one more thing.”
We’ll explore how to notice when your perfectionist or high-achieving part is running the show, how to offer your nervous system real-time signals of safety, and how to reclaim space for deep restoration without abandoning your drive or ambition.
You’ll get micro-check-ins, relational scripts, somatic practices, a 2-minute guided meditation for softening urgency, and weekly reflection prompts to help you gently shift your days — not by force, but by care.
If you’re ready to explore what it means to expand your inner resources and sustain what matters most, we’d love to have you join us as a paid subscriber.
Thank you for joining and happy to have you as part of our community!
You’re right — shows how much basketball I have time to watch these days. I appreciate the clarification, and I’m glad the larger point still comes through beyond the detail.