Sarah Burgin Health

I have been a prolific quitter for a considerable chunk of my life, though I never once attributed this tendency to perfectionism. Yet, looking back, that’s exactly what it was—perfectionism tangled up with an undiagnosed working memory issue (though that’s a whole other story).

This drive for perfection has shown up in unexpected places. For example, I often joke about my poor photography skills when I post on Instagram, but there’s intention behind my approach. Insta is a photo-based platform, and the relentless pursuit of perfect shots seeps into daily life—affecting not just the people chasing it, but those around them. Taking flawless pictures takes skill, yes, but also planning and curation, which interrupts the natural flow of a day. For content creators, this is simply part of the job, something they budget their time and energy for. For the rest of us, it becomes an extra burden piled on top of everything else.

And yet, I know that if I want visibility in today’s world, I’ll need to step back into the demanding arena of social media—at least until word of mouth starts to carry me. The thought doesn’t excite me in the slightest; in fact, it fills me with dread.

What I really want is to communicate the services I offer and present myself as a practitioner in the most genuine way possible. I want the focus to be on what I can provide, not on how many hours I can spend fussing over the perfect shot. I’m not a photographer or a content creator—I just want to be a steady, committed part of someone’s journey.

And that’s the heart of it: perfectionism might once have dictated how I showed up, but now I want sustainability and presence to guide me instead. Whether it’s in work, study, motherhood, perimenopause, or simply navigating life, the goal is no longer flawless output—it’s to show up consistently, protect my calm, and give the best of myself to the people who need me.