How Perfectionism Slowly Stops You From Making Anything

Perfectionism can quietly shut down your creative output even when your standards feel reasonable. If you spend more time refining work than releasing it, this problem already shapes how much you actually make.

Coming to you from Rick Bebbington, this thoughtful video looks at how perfectionism disguises itself as care, discipline, or professionalism. Bebbington frames perfectionism as something that sounds positive on the surface but works against you over time. The pressure does not usually arrive as a dramatic breakdown but as hesitation, delay, and constant small tweaks. You open a project, change one detail, close it again, and tell yourself tomorrow will be better. That pattern feels productive while slowly removing momentum from your work.

The video connects this behavior to how little creative work is truly private now. Almost everything is judged instantly by people you will never meet, often reduced to likes or comments. That exposure trains your brain to associate sharing with risk rather than expression. Inaction starts to feel safer than release, even when doing nothing carries its own cost. You are left managing not only unfinished work but the awareness that nothing moved forward. That mental weight compounds over time and reshapes how you approach new ideas.

Bebbington also challenges the belief that audiences care about technical perfection. The argument is not that quality is irrelevant, but that polish rarely sticks in memory. People remember how something made them feel, whether it felt honest, whether it carried emotion. Over-refinement often strips away the parts that feel human. The video suggests that perfection flattens work, removing texture and personality in exchange for surface control. That tradeoff becomes more obvious once you notice how often imperfect work connects more deeply.

A large portion of the video focuses on comparison and how it fuels perfectionism. Instead of measuring yourself against everyone else, Bebbington describes comparing only to past versions of yourself. The question shifts from “Is this good enough?” to “Is this better than before?” That change reframes progress as movement rather than approval. Improvement comes from repetition, not waiting for clarity. You cannot skip the volume of work required to find the few pieces that truly land.

The video uses a simple visual idea to explain this volume problem. Out of a large body of work, only a small percentage will stand out, and that is normal. Social media hides the discarded attempts and shows only highlights. If you see only finished results, you miss the process that produced them. Creating more work increases confidence, speed, and connection to what you are making. It also increases the chance that something resonates beyond your own expectations.

There is also a warning about early judgment. Work that feels unsuccessful at first can gain meaning over time, while immediate reactions often miss long-term impact. The habit of instant evaluation encourages you to stop too early. Even if you never plan to share your work publicly, aiming for perfection in isolation raises questions about where that pressure comes from.

Later, the video addresses why perfectionism feels so deeply ingrained. From school to social platforms, approval is tied to visible success and clean results. That conditioning teaches you to equate worth with outcomes. The cost of this mindset can be severe, slowing growth at best and stopping it entirely at worst. Finding your voice does not happen in your head. It happens through releasing imperfect work and letting it exist. Check out the video above for the full rundown from Bebbington.

Alex Cooke is a Cleveland-based photographer and meteorologist. He teaches music and enjoys time with horses and his rescue dogs.

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6 Comments

Good topic, Alex

I have a slightly different take on the same basic phenomena ..... my perfectionism doesn't stop me from creating, but it prevents me from enjoying or feeling good about anything I create.

The last photo I took that I was pleased with was 11 months ago. Since then, I have composed and shot tens of thousands of frames. And there have been literally thousands upon thousands of miles traveled, and dozens of miles hiked. And not one photo to show for it that I actually like.

Oh of course there are photos that sell and get published here and there. But they are nowhere near the standard I am shooting for. Photographing wildlife is what my whole life is about, what my whole world revolves around, yet I feel like I suck at it and that whatever I shoot, there will be some little thing about the photo that could have been better. But I sure ain't going to stop shooting just because I don't like the photos I've been taking.

I'd be curious to see the photo from eleven months ago that you liked so much, plus a couple of the best ones since then that you don't like. I'd like to see if I could appreciate the difference. Or maybe it's just that you haven't spotted some rare and elusive animal during that time which would be your idea of a perfect photo?

Actually, a species' rareness or elusivity doesn't have anything to do with my appreciation for the images I take.

For me, what matters so very much is that every detail and every aspect of the image be just right. No distractions at all - not a leaf or clump of grass or twig that is in any way incongruous with the other leaves, grass, or twigs. No "sky holes" in the foliage. The most pleasing angle of head turn. The most pleasing orientation of the subject relative to the image plane. Background blur that is rendered consistently across the frame. No little bits of anything that are notably darker, or notably lighter, than the rest of the frame. Basically, I want my photos to look like a painting would look, where the painter has total control over every single part of the composition.

Here is the photo I took 11 months ago, the last photo that I am completely pleased with. An extremely common subject, able to be seen at just about anybody's backyard bird feeder. A Dark-eyed Junco. I can not think of a single thing I would change about this image. But it took a few weeks to get this, and during those few weeks I took thousands of images of this same species in this same exact spot that are very, very similar to this one, but in which some small detail wouldn't be quite right.

And if there's a distracting twig in the picture, you won't remove it in Photoshop or whatever your post-processing application of choice is?

Oh yes, I will remove or subdue any distractions ... if I am able to. But often times, the distraction will be blurred out to a significant degree. And when you have various things all overlapping each other, and they are all blurred halfway to oblivion, I do not have anywhere near the editing skills to subdue or remove those things without disrupting the way the adjacent objects are rendered, because they all kinda blend into each other because of the heavy blurring.

Here are a couple of the photos I've taken within the last 11 months. These are photos that come close to fully pleasing me, but fall short because of the way that certain parts the out-of-focus areas are rendered.

Really, my clients like my fussy approach to their portraits. I like to be sure before I press the shutter, when I started in pro photography my first camera I had to work with was an 8x10 Arca Swiss. you really had to be sure to release the shutter.