I was listening to a conversation on The Diary of a CEO where Scott Galloway spoke about storytelling, excellence, and something that caught my attention immediately:
There is value in friction.
The biggest rewards often come from the hardest challenges.
Relationships.
Community.
Connection.
Meaningful work.
And as I listened, I realized this is where perfectionism quietly complicates everything.
Because perfectionism does not hate excellence.
It fears friction.
Before writing a story, Galloway asked a simple question:
What do you want someone to feel?
Not what do you want them to know.
Not what do you want them to agree with.
What do you want them to feel?
And that question applies far beyond storytelling.
If you are someone who lives inside perfectionism, you might notice that most of your days are built around performance. Getting it right. Anticipating needs. Staying prepared. Being competent.
But underneath that, there is often a quieter question:
When do I feel seen?
When do I feel enough without performing?
Perfectionism organizes around control.
Excellence organizes around intention.
The difference begins with emotion.
We rarely remember information.
We remember how something made us feel.
And many high-functioning, capable adults are not looking for more information.
They are looking for relief.
Clarity.
Ground under their feet.
Define Your Lane Instead of Winning Everywhere
One idea that stood out was this: aim to be in the top 1% — but define your lane clearly.
Not the top 1% of everything.
The top 1% of something specific.
Perfectionism resists this.
It says:
Be excellent everywhere.
Be indispensable in every room.
Do not narrow yourself.
Do not risk being “just” one thing.
You might recognize this pattern.
Overcommitting.
Overpreparing.
Overextending.
Trying to win in rooms that were never yours to lead.
Excellence is quieter.
It asks for depth, not breadth.
For me, my lane looks like this:
Translating behavior into insight.
Creating tools and quizzes that help people understand themselves.
Taking psychology and making it practical.
Not abstract.
Not overwhelming.
Not performative.
Just useful.
The difference between proficient and exceptional is rarely talent.
It is small daily refinement.
Clarity.
Feedback.
Practice.
Perfectionism demands flawless output.
Excellence demands consistent effort.
Perfectionism fears being seen mid-growth.
Excellence expects it.
If a human can do something, other humans can learn elements of it with practice. Not to replicate the person, but to study the patterns.
That is personal responsibility.
And it is much steadier than perfectionism.
The Algebra of Storytelling and the Myth of “More”
There was a phrase that stayed with me: the algebra of storytelling.
A compelling voice.
Emotion.
White space.
Scarcity.
Domain expertise.
Connection.
Notice what is missing.
Overload.
Perfectionism loves more.
More detail.
More proof.
More credentials.
More explanation.
It fills space to avoid criticism.
But white space is confidence.
Saying less, clearly, is maturity.
And connection matters.
Family.
Community.
Belonging.
Maternal care.
Cultural roots.
Stories endure because they tether to relationship.
So does healing.
So does growth.
You do not need to impress to matter.
You need to connect.
Friction Is the Point
This is where it all lands for me.
Friction is not a flaw in the system.
It is the system.
The friction of saying no.
The friction of disappointing someone.
The friction of not being universally liked.
The friction of admitting you were wrong.
The friction of slowing down.
Perfectionism avoids friction because friction feels unsafe.
But avoided friction becomes anxiety.
Unspoken friction becomes resentment.
Internal friction becomes self-criticism.
When you learn to stay with it — without attacking yourself — something shifts.
You build tolerance.
You build resilience.
You build identity that is not dependent on performance.
The biggest rewards do not come from polished surfaces.
They come from relational depth.
From community.
From contribution.
From meaningful effort.
I consider myself an average explorer.
Not extraordinary.
Curious.
If something works for one human, there are patterns inside it worth studying.
Not to copy.
To learn.
Excellence is not mystical.
It is iterative.
It is friction plus reflection plus adjustment over time.