What if the reason you’re burned out isn’t because you’re failing—but because perfectionism has been quietly running the show?

And what if perfectionism doesn’t always look like overachieving or being the best—but like constant overthinking, fear of mistakes, and never quite feeling like enough?

Welcome to The Lawyer Burnout Solution, the podcast for women attorneys who want to stay in the careers they worked so hard to build—without running themselves into the ground. I’m Heather Mills, and every week, I’ll share the tools, strategies, and mindset shifts you need to reclaim your energy, confidence, and career.

Today we’re digging into perfectionism—how it doesn’t just make you double-check things, it quietly feeds your shame, overwork, and burnout.

Let me paint a quick picture. You’re staring at a draft at 11 p.m., even though it was already good enough at 6. You’re skipping lunch to perfect a slide deck no one will notice. You tell your partner you “just need ten more minutes,” even though they’ve heard that before—and so have you.

This isn’t just overworking. It’s a nervous system caught in survival mode, equating perfection with protection.

Back in my 20s, when I was prepping for job interviews, I was trying to sound smart and prepared. The books all said to be ready for the classic question: “What’s your greatest weakness?”
And I went with what felt like the safe bet: “I guess I’m kind of a perfectionist.”

I practiced saying it like it was some kind of humblebrag.
You know: “My greatest weakness is that I care too much, work too hard, and try to never make mistakes.” Classic.

But here’s the funny part: I didn’t actually think I was a perfectionist.
I knew I was a procrastinator. I didn’t feel like I had it all together.
I thought perfectionists were those flawless Type A people with color-coded calendars and perfectly styled hair. I didn’t see myself that way.

So really, I was just parroting what I thought I was supposed to say—saying what would make me sound employable. It was people-pleasing dressed up as insight.

That disconnect—that belief that you’re too messy or behind to possibly be a perfectionist—is so common, especially among high-achieving women in law.

They’ll say, “I procrastinate too much,” or “I don’t have it together,” like that disqualifies them. But what they’re describing is exactly how perfectionism hides—not as polished control, but as constant self-doubt, procrastination, and pressure to get it exactly right.

I didn’t see it either—not at first. Back then, I thought perfectionism was just a detail-oriented streak I could spin into a strength. I didn’t realize it was the very thing draining me. Trying to get everything right, terrified of getting it wrong—that mindset became one of the root causes of my burnout.

And I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen that same pattern reflected back to me in client after client. 

A mid-level associate who wakes up at 3 a.m. panicked she forgot to add a footnote. A federal clerk who's paralyzed drafting her first bench memo—because what if it’s not good enough? A senior litigator avoiding her first marketing email for her new solo practice, rewriting it 17 times because she’s convinced it still sounds “too casual.” A law school dean who silently fears she’s one mistake away from being exposed as “not ready” for the role. A mom of two in BigLaw who hides in her office to cry because she forgot to send a daycare form—and instantly makes it mean she’s failing at everything.

These patterns makes sense. Because this is how we were trained to survive.

Perfectionism isn’t just about high standards. In fact, many women lawyers don’t even think of themselves as perfectionists—because they feel like they’re failing at being perfect. So their internal narrative sounds more like:

“I can’t be a perfectionist—I mess up too much, I procrastinate, I don’t have it together.”

But here’s what they do recognize: “I feel like I can never turn my brain off.” “I’m constantly behind, no matter how hard I work.” “I’m afraid to delegate or try new things because I’ll screw it up.”  “I beat myself up when I make even small mistakes.”  “I feel tense even during downtime—like I should be doing something more productive.”  “I avoid speaking up unless I’m 100% sure I won’t be challenged.”  “I rewrite simple emails over and over, afraid of sounding unprepared or careless.”

Or here’s another version you might recognize:
You stare at your to-do list and can’t figure out where to start.
So you don’t. Then you beat yourself up for procrastinating.
And that shame spiral keeps you stuck even longer.
That’s not laziness. That’s perfectionism in disguise.

You start thinking: “Why can’t I just send the email?” Or, “Why does this take me so long when it’s so easy for everyone else?” Or, “What’s wrong with me that I need hours to write one paragraph?”

But there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not flaky. You’re not failing.
You’ve just been carrying this invisible weight for so long, it feels normal.
“That pattern isn’t a flaw—it’s a reflection of what your nervous system learned to do: keep you safe by trying to get it right.

Let’s call it what it is: this isn’t just a high-achiever pattern.
It’s a survival loop. One that fuels overwork, second-guessing, and exhaustion. And once you name it, things start to make sense.
You’re not failing—you’re just following a script your brain picked up to protect you.

So here’s your first shift: you don’t have to fix your perfectionism today. Just start noticing when it shows up.

Catch it in the small moments: when you’re triple-checking a timesheet. When you’re agonizing over a Slack message to your team lead. When you decide not to volunteer for a pro bono panel because you don’t feel “expert” enough. When you reread your motion five times before submitting it—even though you know it’s solid.

Make a mental note—or jot it down. Not to judge it. Just to see it. That awareness alone creates space.

This isn’t just about that one moment—it’s about what your brain has been rehearsing for years.

It’s like your brain has built a groove from years of practicing the same survival move. And now, it runs on autopilot.

So let’s admit that perfectionism has served you in some ways. At least from the outside. You got good grades. You made people proud. You felt like you were keeping things from falling apart.

Maybe you were the one your teachers could count on. The one in your family who didn’t cause trouble. The one who kept things moving, stayed out of the way, or overachieved to feel okay.

And maybe you didn’t realize how much of your identity got built on that. Because it felt like the safest thing to do. So your nervous system came to associate being flawless with being safe.

The message isn’t just intellectual—it’s neurological. Your nervous system absorbed the idea that being imperfect = danger. Exposure. Rejection.

Especially for women in law, where every memo, every hearing, every comment is scrutinized, it’s not paranoia—it’s conditioning.
You’ve been wired for vigilance. That’s not your personal flaw. It’s the outcome of a system that rewards perfection and punishes humanity.

Perfectionism runs in loops—mental, emotional, and behavioral.
And I see two core patterns most often in my clients:

The first pattern is what I call the The Hustle for Worth Loop
It starts with: “I should be perfect.”
→ That creates anxiety.
→ That anxiety fuels overworking, overpreparing, overfunctioning.
→ You look composed, but inside you’re pushing and tightening.
→ The result is Exhaustion. Resentment. A to-do list that never ends.

The second pattern is The Shame Shutdown Loop
It starts when you fall short of perfect. Which of course we all do.
→ The thought shifts to: “I’m not good enough.”
→ That triggers shame.
→ And shame leads to hiding, procrastinating, or paralysis.

This is how a brilliant appellate lawyer puts off applying for a promotion because she’s convinced she “should have published more.” How a GC in a startup stops speaking up in leadership meetings after her first suggestion was brushed off. Not because they aren’t capable—but because perfectionism trained them to fear the emotional cost of not being perfect.

So, which loop feels most familiar? You might see yourself clearly in one. Or maybe you bounce between them. Hustling at work, then shutting down at home. Or flipping back and forth depending on how safe you feel that day.
They’re not personal failures. Just protective strategies your brain built a long time ago.

So what can you do when you notice you’re in one of these loops?

And here’s something I want to say before we even get into action steps:
You don’t have to do this part perfectly either.
This isn’t about replacing one performance standard with another.
It’s about gently retraining your nervous system to believe:

“I can rest, even when it’s not all done.”
“I can take a risk, even when I feel shaky.”
“I can show up, even when I’m not sure it’s perfect.”

That’s how real change happens—not from fixing yourself, but from stopping the cycle of self-punishment.

Most perfectionists panic is someone tells them they need to “lower the bar”. It sounds like sloppiness or failure. But what if it’s not about lowering your standards—just lowering the cost your body pays to meet them? 

You’re not getting lazy. You’re teaching your nervous system something new: “We don’t have to be perfect to be safe.”

Try one of these small, doable steps:

Name the loop. “Ah, I’m in the Hustle Loop right now.” Or: “This is the Shame Shutdown showing up.”

Ask: What would 90% look like? Leave the draft at 90%. Send the email after two reviews instead of five.

Ask: What tiny step can I take do while i’m feeling the anxiety or shame?
Don’t wait to feel better. Take a 5-minute action while those feelings are still there.

Track the cost. Ask yourself: “What is perfectionism costing me here?”
Time? Confidence? Connection?

I want to be clear—this kind of change doesn’t feel comfortable right away.
If you’ve built your career by being the one who gets it right, being willing to get it 90% right might feel terrifying.

You might feel twitchy. Guilty. Like you're doing something wrong.
But that discomfort? It’s not a sign you’re failing—it’s a sign you’re healing.
It means you’re breaking an old agreement with perfectionism, one breath at a time.

One of my clients, a junior associate, started tracking when she felt the urge to reread her emails “just one more time.” She practiced sending it at 90%. That gave her 30 minutes back in her day—and her anxiety started to loosen.

Another client, a public interest attorney, realized she was avoiding asking for help because she thought needing support meant she wasn’t competent. Her shift? Asking one clarifying question a week. The result: faster prep, more collaboration, and a feeling of relief.

And one client I worked with was a law student who hadn’t even graduated yet—but she already felt behind. She was convinced she needed a polished résumé, law review credentials, a job offer, and a five-year plan by October—or she was already falling short.

When we unpacked it, what she was really afraid of was being judged as unprepared. Her shift? She practiced doing one thing imperfectly each week—like asking a “dumb question” in class or sending an email to a professor without rereading it ten times. And she didn’t crumble. She got clearer. She got braver. She started sleeping through the night.

This is what progress looks like. Not grand overhauls. But repeated, nervous-system-safe interruptions of a pattern that used to feel permanent. 

You don’t have to figure it all out overnight. Just noticing is a powerful beginning. You’re not here to become someone else. You’re learning to stay grounded in self-trust, no matter what perfectionism has to say.

This isn’t about fixing your perfectionism—it’s about building a relationship with it. You’ll still feel pressure. You’ll still feel shame. But now? You’ll know how to meet it with curiosity, not panic.

That’s emotional leadership. Not forcing your way through—but walking yourself through with compassion and skill.

You don’t have to be at rock bottom to deserve support. You don’t need to be on the verge of quitting to change how you work. You just need a willingness to be with yourself with curiosity every time fear, shame, or pressure shows up.  And some practice in choosing something kinder instead. 
 

And if hearing all this brings a wave of relief—or a feeling you can’t quite name—that’s okay too. You were never meant to carry all of this alone. This isn’t your fault. You’ve been surviving in a system that made perfection feel like the only way.

And now, you get to try something different. If this episode hit home, send it to a colleague who’s quietly battling the same perfectionist pattern. And if you’re ready to explore how to work with these patterns—not against them—book a free call with me. The link is in the show notes. Remember to Be kind to yourself this week. You deserve that and so much more. I’ll see you next time.