High-achieving women aren’t exhausted because they’re weak. They’re exhausted because perfectionism taught them to carry everything alone.
– Susan Landers, MD
Perfectionism is often praised as discipline, drive, or high standards. In many professional settings, it can look indistinguishable from ambition. But beneath the polished surface, it frequently operates as something else: a coping strategy built early, reinforced often, and sustained at high cost.
In a recent conversation, Susan Landers, MD—a retired neonatologist who spent more than 30 years caring for critically ill newborns and their families—described perfectionism not as a badge of honor, but as a burden many women carry quietly. Especially working mothers.
Her insight lands in a moment when burnout is widespread, rest is commodified, and overwork is still glamorized. But what Landers articulates is more specific: perfectionism isn’t just about doing a lot. It’s about believing you must do it all—flawlessly—and that anything less is failure.
The invisible load of “doing it well.”
Spend time with working mothers, Landers says, and one theme surfaces quickly: exhaustion.
She hears it in gyms, at social gatherings with her adult daughter and her friends, in conversations with millennial and Gen Z mothers who are juggling full-time jobs, small children, partnerships, and the unspoken expectation to be emotionally attuned to everyone in their orbit.
At home, that often means:
- Managing household logistics
- Tracking appointments and school calendars
- Monitoring emotional dynamics
- Anticipating needs before they are voiced
- Staying connected to a partner
- Attempting to maintain some form of self-care
At work, the caretaking often continues:
- Checking in on colleagues and employees
- Mentoring and supporting others
- Ensuring no one feels overlooked
- Striving to outperform male peers in inequitable systems
Research consistently shows that women managers spend more time on employee well-being and emotional labor than their male counterparts. Landers sees this firsthand. “We overdo it by checking in,” she says. “We spend more time worrying about our employees than we do ourselves.”
The pattern is subtle but cumulative. Every role is approached with the same standard: do it exceptionally well. If not perfectly, then nearly.
The result is not sustainable excellence. It is chronic depletion.
Where the standard begins: the “good girl blueprint.”
Perfectionism rarely begins in adulthood. It begins with messaging.
“You have to be quiet.”
“You have to be accommodating.”
“You have to make good grades.”
“You have to be inclusive.”
“You have to be this way to have friends.”
“You have to be that way to get attention.”
Landers calls this the “good girl blueprint.”
For some women, achievement becomes the safest currency for love or validation. Landers shares that in her own childhood, she felt less favored than her siblings. The strategy she developed was clear: make excellent grades. Excel academically. Earn approval.
When affection feels conditional—earned through performance rather than inherent—perfectionism can become protective.
Those early pathways don’t disappear when we enter the workforce. They deepen.
Now add social media—carefully curated homes, polished career milestones, effortless-looking motherhood. Even when we intellectually understand that feeds are filtered, the comparison still registers.
Landers recalls catching her daughter scrolling through pristine Pinterest homes. “You know those are curated,” she said. Her daughter replied, “I know. But I should do better.”
The pressure isn’t always rational. But it is powerful.
The fleeting reward of achievement
Perfectionism promises payoff: the promotion, the praise, the recognition. And yes—achievement can feel good. But for how long?
“A nanosecond,” Landers says.
Many high-achieving women describe the same pattern. They reach a milestone and feel relief or pride—briefly. Then the internal dialogue shifts:
- Now what?
- How do I get to the next level?
- Can I sustain this?
- Did I actually deserve that?
Women are also socialized to be modest, not to “brag,” not to over-celebrate. Accepting a compliment can feel uncomfortable. Instead of saying “thank you,” many instinctively deflect.
The emotional reward of success is shortened. The pressure to perform returns immediately.
Meanwhile, mistakes linger. The criticism—especially self-criticism—lasts far longer than the satisfaction of accomplishment.
The inner critic: a voice with history
At the center of perfectionism is what Landers calls the inner critic.
It’s the voice that asks:
- Did you do that well enough?
- Did you forget something?
- Are you sure that was complete?
- Could you have tried harder?
The inner critic is rarely original. It echoes teachers, parents, mentors, and supervisors. It carries old neural pathways—rehearsed scripts from childhood.
Landers describes naming her own inner critic “Little Susie,” the name adults used when she was in trouble for talking too much in school. Naming it created distance. It allowed her to recognize that the voice was learned, not truth. The shift begins with awareness.
Once you notice the voice, the next step is to compare it to how you would speak to a friend. As Landers points out, most women would never speak to a friend the way they speak to themselves.
Imagine a friend saying, “I don’t know if I did a good enough job.”
You would likely respond with reassurance: “You worked hard. It was excellent.”
But internally? Many women respond with: “I should have done better.”
The work is not eliminating the inner critic entirely. It is noticing it—and responding with self-compassion instead of automatic agreement.
Redefining “good enough.”
Landers spent years asking her husband, “Am I being a good enough mom?”
His response often turned the question back to her: “What does that mean to you?”
When she listed the markers—spending time, offering affection, participating in activities, staying connected—she realized she was already doing those things. The missing piece was not effort. It was permission to accept adequacy.
“Good enough” is not a fixed metric. It changes by role and by season.
- Good enough at work this week may mean completing core responsibilities well, not taking on an additional project.
- Good enough as a parent may mean attending most activities—not all.
- Good enough as a partner may mean reconnecting intentionally—not perfectly.
Perfectionism insists on simultaneous excellence in every role at all times.
Reality does not allow that.
Why rest feels threatening
One of the most revealing parts of Landers’ reflection is her admission that she struggled deeply with rest.
True rest, she says, is not scrolling or even passive entertainment. It is lying on the couch without multitasking. Taking a slow walk without turning it into exercise. Letting your mind wander.
When the mind wanders, it processes, creates, and integrates. Perfectionists often avoid this state because stillness can feel unfamiliar—or even unsafe. Without productivity, identity feels shaky.
Landers recalls working 12-hour days routinely. Her daughter grew up believing that was normal. It wasn’t until later that Landers recognized how overwork had shaped her family’s expectations.
Sleep also becomes compromised. And fatigue amplifies self-criticism. When exhausted, the inner critic grows louder. Rest is not indulgent, it’s restorative. Without it, creativity declines, resilience drops, and irritability increases.
And yet, culturally, overwork is still glamorized.
The competition of exhaustion
There is a subtle social script in many workplaces:
“I stayed up all night finishing that.”
“I worked all weekend.”
“I haven’t taken a day off in months.”
The response is admiration. Landers challenges that narrative. “Perfectionism is performative,” she says. “Excellence is a value.”
Excellence means doing thoughtful, complete work aligned with your values. Perfectionism means overextending beyond reason—often at the cost of health and relationships.
If you pull aside someone who boasts about sleepless achievement and ask how they feel, the answer is rarely joy. It is usually exhaustion, followed by: “What’s next?”
Perfectionism does not create satisfaction. It creates ongoing strain.
Boundaries: the skill perfectionism resists
If perfectionism is sustained by saying yes, recovery requires learning to say no.
Landers is direct: “No is a complete sentence.” For many women, that sentence feels radical.
The fear is predictable:
- If I say no, I’ll be seen as uncommitted.
- If I set a boundary, I’ll be passed over.
- If I don’t help, I’ll disappoint someone.
But often, the imagined backlash is worse than reality.
Instead of saying yes reflexively, Landers suggests neutral, clear language:
- “I’m full right now.”
- “I can start Monday.”
- “I can help with this part, but not all of it.”
Boundaries are not refusals of responsibility. They are acknowledgments of capacity. Without them, resentment builds.
One woman in the conversation described feeling angry at colleagues for workload expectations—until she realized no one had actually demanded the extra tasks. She had assigned them to herself.
Perfectionism can create pressure where none exists.
A personal turning point
Landers’ own reckoning came at 42. She had just had her third child, moved to a new city, started a new academic job, and was pushing aggressively for promotion and tenure.
For six months, she worked relentlessly—long hours, rushed evenings, constant tension.
She achieved her goal and felt resentful.
“I didn’t enjoy it one bit,” she recalls.
The cost—less time with her children, strain in her marriage, physical exhaustion—outweighed the triumph.
Her shift was practical. She reduced her hours, wrote fewer papers, scheduled exercise, and spent more time at home.
Within a year, she felt markedly better—more connected, more rested, more joyful. The insight was not that ambition was wrong. It was that perfectionism had distorted it.
Perfectionism versus excellence
The distinction Landers draws is worth underlining.
Excellence:
- Aligns with values
- Honors limits
- Allows recovery
- Supports relationships
- Feels sustainable
Perfectionism:
- Is performative
- Ignores limits
- Sacrifices rest
- Damages relationships
- Feels never-ending
The difference is not small. It is foundational.
The quiet shift that changes everything
Perfectionism often masquerades as responsibility. But at its core, it ties self-worth to performance.
Landers’ framework invites a different premise: you are worthy before you achieve anything. From that premise, standards can still exist. Excellence can still matter. Work can still be meaningful.
But the frantic proving slows, the exhaustion softens. and “good enough” becomes not a compromise—but a recalibration; A way of working, parenting, and living that allows room for breath.
Because if achievement brings only a nanosecond of relief, but self-compassion creates steadiness, the choice becomes clearer.
Perfectionism may promise control.
But good enough—sustainable, self-respecting, human—offers something better: Peace.
