How to Overcome Perfectionism (When "Good Enough" Feels Like Failure)

I used to think perfectionism was just who I was, the same way some people are tall or left-handed. It took me years to realize perfectionism isn't a trait at all, it's a habit, and habits can be unlearned.

It started early, in school. I would study for hours, repeating lessons over and over in my head until I had them word-for-word, matching the textbook exactly. Not the essence of what I was learning, but the exact wording. I got very good at this. I also, looking back, learned almost nothing about how to actually think because all my energy went into reproducing the "right" answer rather than understanding it.

That pattern didn't stay in school. It followed me into my career, into my writing, into every "one last thing" I told myself needed fixing before something was allowed to exist in the world.

What Perfectionism Actually Costs You (It's Not What You Think)

Perfectionism doesn't cost you elusive polish. It costs you time, and time is the one thing you don't get back.

My clearest example is my own book. I finished writing it, and then I published it eight months later than I needed to, because I kept telling myself I just had to edit "one last thing." A million last things, actually. Eight months of a finished book sitting in a drawer because "finished" and "ready" had gotten tangled up in my head as the same thing. They aren't.

This is the part I've seen most perfectionism advice not address at all. It's not really about high standards. A recent Scientific Reports study out of the University of Szeged tracked nearly 1,900 university students and found that people who struggle most with procrastination and mental depletion aren't the ones with the highest standards, they're the ones caught in a specific self-regulation pattern, one that shows up especially strongly alongside ADHD symptoms. Perfectionism, in other words, often isn't about wanting things to be excellent. It's about a nervous system stuck in a loop, unable to call something finished.

If procrastination is the thing that actually derails you (not just the anxious thoughts, the actual not-shipping-it), you're not lazy, and you're not uniquely undisciplined. You're running a very old pattern that was never really about the work.

Where Perfectionism Comes From

For me, it came from an achievement track. Good grades were praised. Word-for-word recall was praised. There was no separate reward for actually understanding something versus reproducing it perfectly, so I optimized for what got noticed.

This is common, and it's rarely about the standards themselves. It's about not wanting to be punished or criticized by a parent, a teacher, anyone with authority over how you were seen. A missed word wasn't just a wrong answer. It was proof, or felt like proof, that something was wrong about you, and once that belief takes hold when you're young, it becomes a fact you have to keep disproving.

I'd call a lot of this trauma, even though it rarely gets named that way. Not the dramatic kind, the quieter, repeated kind that comes from spending years inside a system built for one type of mind, one way of learning, one definition of "good," and being measured, over and over, against a standard you were never built for. I'm autistic, and I say this as someone who lived it, not just studied it: this isn't only a generalist problem, it's a neurodivergent one. Autism, ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia, AuDHD (autism and ADHD together, which overlap far more than most people realize), a school system built around one narrow definition of a "good student" reads almost any different way of thinking as a deficit to correct rather than a difference to work with.

Because that's the other layer of this for a lot of us: generalists, and neurodivergent minds more broadly, get educated inside a specialist system built for neither. School rewards depth in a straight line: pick a track, go deep, stay in your lane, whether you're wired to combine and cross-connect instead of specialize, or your brain simply processes information differently than the system was built to measure. When your mind doesn't work that way, and the system spends twelve-plus years telling you that not working that way is a problem to be corrected, you don't just walk away with a few bad grades. You walk away with perfectionism, impostor syndrome, and a deep distrust of your own abilities, because the evidence gathered about you for over a decade said you were the broken one, not the system.

If you're a creative generalist with a dozen half-finished projects, this pattern might be even more familiar than you'd like. I see this constantly in my coaching practice, creative generalists sitting on almost-finished projects, all waiting for a "perfect" that was never actually going to arrive, still carrying the old belief that anything less means something is wrong with them. When you're managing multiple interests or businesses at once, "just make it perfect first" isn't a minor block, it's the thing standing between you and ever actually creating and sharing any of them.

The Perfectionism and Procrastination Loop

Perfectionism and procrastination aren't two separate problems, they're the same problem wearing two different hats. The anxiety about not being good enough shows up first as procrastination (avoiding the task because the stakes of doing it "wrong" feel too high), and then, once you finally do sit down to it, as endless revision (because now that you've started, stopping still feels unsafe).

This loop is especially strong across neurodivergence, ADHD, autism, AuDHD, dyslexia, and beyond, not ADHD on its own. The connection between perfectionism and ADHD isn't about having unusually high standards either, it's often about harsh self-judgment when you fall short of ordinary ones. Researchers have described this as a "no-win scenario": low standards, yet still disappointed. For autistic people, and especially those of us who are both autistic and ADHD, that pattern often compounds further, layered on top of years of masking, learning to perform "normal" well enough to be left alone, which is its own full-time perfectionism project underneath everything else. You're not applying an impossible bar to yourself on purpose. You're applying an ordinary bar and then treating any miss as proof of something wrong with you, which is exhausting in a completely different way.

If that's you, there’s potentially nothing wrong with your discipline. You're simply judging yourself super harshly - and to impossible (even if “normal”) standards.

How I Actually Learned to Choose Good Enough

There wasn't one dramatic moment where I "cured" my perfectionism. And, by no means am I cured; I call myself recovering at best. It was a gradual practice: finishing things before I felt ready, publishing before I felt ready, launching before I felt ready, and letting the world decide if it was good enough instead of deciding that it wasn’t in advance.

I had to build this practice on purpose, because the alternative wasn't just not “finishing things,” it was actively costing me. As a startup founder, "get it perfect first" isn't compatible with how anything real gets built. The first version of Coachmila wasn't polished. It was an MVP, built to be good enough to learn from, not good enough to be beyond criticism. And, believe me, criticism I got. The same is true of Nuumani, the coaches community I built. Neither would exist today if I'd waited for "ready." (If you want the fuller, day-to-day version of this, on where perfectionism actually keeps you stuck and how to stop letting it hold you back, I wrote a companion piece on that here.)

Somewhere in that process, something shifted from tolerating good enough to actually loving it. I fell in love with good enough as a genuinely better standard, one that lets things exist in the world instead of dying quietly in a drawer.

A few things that actually helped

• Setting a real deadline and treating it as non-negotiable, even when the perfectionist voice insisted there was time for one more pass. Giving myself 45 minutes to polish an article instead of keeping the browser tab open on my laptop for 3 weeks. 

• Publishing before I felt ready, on purpose, as a practice. Confidence always comes after you do the scary thing, not before it.

• Asking what "one last thing" was actually protecting me from, usually it wasn't the work getting better, it was me avoiding being seen and judged for a little longer.

• Remembering that finished and perfect are different words for a reason. Finished is a fact. Perfect, just like “stuck,” is a feeling, not a fact. And feelings don’t have finish lines. 

Is This Still a Work in Progress? (Yes, Honestly)

I'd love to tell you this is fully solved for me now, but it isn't. It still shows up, especially on the things that matter most to me: I'll procrastinate on a big project, or lose an hour to a detail that has to be "just right," or catch myself fretting over something super tiny that makes no difference at all, all the while believing I will die if this one thing isn’t absolutely right.

What's changed isn't that the perfectionist voice went away. I recognize it faster now, and I don't let it run the show. The moment I notice I'm stalling on something instead of finishing it, I can name what's happening and move past it, rather than losing days to it the way I used to. 

That's the actual skill: not eliminating the instinct (your nervous system will always try to protect you) but catching it earlier and better every time.

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Common Questions About How to Overcome Perfectionism

What causes perfectionism?

Perfectionism usually forms early, often in response to what got praised, criticized, or rewarded as a child, especially around achievement. It's reinforced any time "not perfect" gets treated, even subtly, as evidence of not being enough. It's not a fixed personality trait, it's a learned pattern, which is also exactly why it can be unlearned.

Is perfectionism a symptom of ADHD?

Perfectionism isn't an official ADHD symptom, but the two are closely linked. For many people with ADHD, perfectionism shows up less as "impossibly high standards" and more as harsh self-judgment over falling short of ordinary ones, sometimes described as applying low standards to yourself and still being disappointed when you don't meet them.

Is perfectionism connected to autism or other neurodivergence?

Yes. ADHD gets most of the research attention, but perfectionism shows up strongly across the neurodivergent umbrella, autism, dyslexia, dyspraxia, and AuDHD (autism and ADHD together) in particular. For autistic people, perfectionism is often tangled up with masking, the ongoing work of performing neurotypical enough to avoid criticism, which adds its own layer of exhausting self-monitoring on top of everything else.

How do you stop being a perfectionist?

You don't stop it in one decision, you build a new practice that replaces it: setting real deadlines, finishing and sharing things before you feel fully ready, and noticing the "one last thing" impulse for what it usually is, avoidance dressed up as diligence. It gets easier with repetition, not with willpower alone.

Is perfectionism a disorder?

No, perfectionism on its own isn't classified as a disorder. It's a personality trait and behavior pattern that, when it becomes rigid or all-or-nothing, can contribute to anxiety, procrastination, and burnout. It's worth taking seriously even though it isn't a formal diagnosis.

Ready to Trade Perfect for Good Enough (and Actually Finish Something)?

If you recognized yourself in the eight-months-late book, or the project that's "almost ready" for the third year running, you already know this isn't really about the work. It's about a pattern that's been running quietly in the background for years, deciding what you're allowed to put into the world and when.

A free coaching session is the fastest way to actually see your own version of this pattern clearly, and to build a real plan for finishing the things you keep almost-finishing. No perfect version of yourself required to show up.

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Your Fear of Failure Isn't About Failure. It's About Being Seen.

For most of my life, I was terrified of what other people would think of me.

Not in a small, background-hum kind of way. In a stops-you-cold, shrinks-your-world, makes-you-invisible-by-choice kind of way. I wanted to be perfect. I wanted the gold star, the shoulder tap, the silent approval of everyone in the room. And because of that, failing wasn't just disappointing; it felt like my world was ending and my life was over.

It took years of deep personal work, coaching, and eventually a very deliberate "f*ck it" decision to start living differently. That decision changed everything. But even now, after more than a decade of that kind of growth, the fear doesn't disappear. It just moves. And lately, I've noticed it moving into new territory: not the fear of things going wrong, but the fear of being seen while I try (even if I end up succeeding!).

That's what I want to talk about today. Because I think most people who tell themselves they're afraid of failing are actually afraid of something else entirely.

What Is the Fear of Failure? (And What It's Actually Called)

The fear of failure has a clinical name: atychiphobia. It comes from the Greek word "atyches," meaning unfortunate, and it describes an intense, sometimes irrational fear of not succeeding.

According to fear-of-failure statistics, this affects nearly 49% of Americans — and it's especially common among creatives, perfectionists (hello, friend, I see you!), and people — just like me — who built their sense of self around doing things well. I was a textbook case. Failing wasn't something I could accept because my identity was tied to getting it right. Perfectionism and fear of failure are close cousins: one demands flawless output, the other punishes you for any result that isn't exactly right.

But here's what I've come to understand: atychiphobia, as it's typically described, is about the outcome. What I'm pointing to is something more specific and more insidious. It's not the failure itself. It's being watched, trying.

The Real Fear: Being Seen

Think about the last time you held something back. A project, an idea, a piece of writing, a business you've been building in private.

Was it really that you were afraid of things going wrong?

Or was it that you could picture, with uncomfortable clarity, people watching it go wrong? Or just people knowing about it?

I've noticed, in my own experience and in the work I do with clients, that the fear arrives at very specific moments. Not in private. In public.

• You don't freeze when you're alone, working on the idea, without an ounce of care for the outside world. You freeze when you have to share it (or even think about it!).

• You don't struggle with writing the pitch when nobody's watching. You struggle when you start thinking about who might read it or when it's time to send it.

• You don't panic at the thought of trying. You panic at the thought of people watching you try.

That is not fear of failure. That is the fear of visibility.

And it covers more territory than we usually admit. Because it's not just about failing in public — it's about succeeding in public too.

The Fear Nobody Talks About: Being Seen Succeeding

We talk a lot about fear of failure. We talk almost nothing about fear of success - and yet it's just as real, and just as paralyzing for many people.

Fear of success sounds contradictory. Why would anyone be afraid of things going well?

But think about what success actually brings: more visibility, more scrutiny, more expectations, more people watching. The "who does she think she is" energy. The pressure to maintain it. The loneliness that can come with moving faster than the people around you.

For many people, especially those who grew up being "too much," success feels just as threatening as failure. Both put you in the spotlight. And the spotlight is where the fear lives.

For women especially, the social cost of standing out has been documented extensively — success in many contexts still carries a penalty that failure doesn't. So the fear isn't irrational. It's learned.

Why This Distinction Matters

If you misidentify the fear, you apply the wrong solution.

If you were afraid of failing, evidence would help. Statistics would be reassuring. A track record of success would calm you down. Does it, really?

Because if you're afraid of being seen (regardless of outcome), then data doesn't touch it. The fear isn't logical. It's social, and it's old.

It's rooted in something ancient: the human need to belong. Research on the spotlight effect shows that we consistently overestimate how much other people are watching us — our nervous system treats "people might judge my work" as equivalent to "the tribe might exile me." Which is why rational reassurance rarely works.

What Fear of Visibility Looks Like in Practice

This fear disguises itself well. It rarely announces itself as "I'm afraid of being seen." It shows up as:

• Overworking the thing until it's "perfect." Endless refinement that's really about minimizing your exposure to judgment.

• Waiting for the right moment, which turns out to be the moment when the risk of visibility feels smaller.

• Building beautifully in private, and staying very quiet about it.

• Comparing your behind-the-scenes to everyone else's highlight reel, and using that comparison to justify not showing up yet.

• Launching, then pulling back. Posting, then checking obsessively. Sharing, then wishing you hadn't.

None of these looks like fear. They look like perfectionism, overthinking, and procrastination. But they share a root.

And when I notice them in myself now, I try to ask: am I protecting the work, or am I protecting myself from being seen?

How to Actually Move Through It

I'm not going to tell you to just be brave. If that worked, you'd have done it already.

Here's what has actually helped me, and what I guide clients through:

1. Name the right fear. When you notice yourself freezing up, ask honestly: Am I afraid of the outcome, or of the audience? Get specific. The right diagnosis matters.

2. Separate your worth from the result. The single most powerful shift I've made — and I didn't do it alone, I needed career and business coaching to get there- was learning to anchor my sense of self somewhere other than my output. Not "I need this to succeed," but "who am I regardless of whether this succeeds?" When that anchor holds, failure loses most of its power. And so does the fear of being seen trying.

3. Reframe it as growth, not failure. This isn't a platitude (I know, I know), it's a practice. When something doesn't work the way I hoped, I no longer ask "why did I fail?" I ask, "What did this show me?" That shift changes not just how I feel about outcomes, but how much I'm willing to risk being seen in pursuit of them.

4. Start where the fear feels smaller. You don't have to go public with the biggest version of the thing. Share with five people you trust. Test in a lower-stakes space. Build your tolerance for visibility gradually. And while you're at it, it helps to stop feeling guilty for choosing yourself in the process - that's part of the work too.

The goal isn't the absence of fear. It's becoming someone who can be seen - imperfectly, publicly, honestly - and knows that their worth doesn't depend on how it lands.

If the inner work of separating your worth from your output is something you want to do more intentionally, the Core Values Worksheet I've put together is a good starting point. It's free, it takes about 20 minutes, and it builds the foundation.

→ Download the Core Values Worksheet | Book a free coaching session

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Common Questions About Fear of Failure

What is the fear of failure called?

The fear of failure is clinically called atychiphobia, from the Greek for "unfortunate." It describes a persistent, often intense fear of not succeeding, and it's especially common among high achievers, perfectionists, and creatives.

What's the difference between fear of failure and fear of being seen?

Fear of failure is about the outcome - things not working out. Fear of being seen is about the audience - people watching you in the process. They feel similar but respond to very different things. Most people are dealing with the second one, not the first.

Is there such a thing as fear of success?

Yes, and it's more common than people admit. Fear of success is rooted in the same place as fear of failure: the spotlight. More success means more visibility, scrutiny, and expectations. For people who grew up learning that standing out had social costs, success can feel just as threatening as failure.

How do I overcome fear of failure?

Start by identifying whether the fear is about the outcome or the audience. If it's about visibility, the most effective path is gradually building your tolerance for being seen - starting small with trusted people - while anchoring your sense of self somewhere stable, not in your results.

Why does fear of failure affect perfectionists more?

Perfectionists tie their identity closely to their output. When failure happens, and it always does, it doesn't just feel like a bad result. It feels like evidence of something fundamentally wrong with them. The work is in separating those two things

The Generalist's Dilemma: Overcoming Procrastination & Inaction with Grit

You know the feeling. The project sits there, perfectly planned in your head. You've researched, outlined, and maybe even created a detailed timeline. But somehow, weeks pass, and nothing concrete has happened. You're a creative generalist by nature. You've accomplished plenty in your life, and want to do so much more still. Yet here you are, stuck in the gap between intention and action again, quitting a project in mid-air while unable to start the new one.

This is the generalist's dilemma, and it's particularly painful for multi-passionate professionals who see endless possibilities but struggle to bring them to life - or keep them going without straying.

When "Just Do It" Isn't Enough

The standard productivity advice assumes that your problem is either a lack of motivation or a lack of clarity. "Just start," they say. "Break it into smaller steps." But you already know what needs doing. You've broken it down. You've set the deadlines. The issue isn't a lack of knowledge, it's the mysterious desire to keep researching instead of building, planning instead of launching, and perfecting instead of sharing.

For creative professionals with multiple interests, this stuck feeling often comes from a deeper place. You see connections others miss. You understand the complexity of what you're trying to create. You know it could be better, more integrated, more thoughtful. This awareness becomes both your gift and your trap. Because now you've created a mountain in your head, and you want to climb it in one go.

The Perfectionism-Procrastination Loop

Here's what really happens in that space between intention and action: perfectionism disguises itself as preparation. You tell yourself you need one more course, one more research phase, one more week to "get it right." But creative generalist perfectionism isn't about standards; it's really about fear. Fear that your work won't match your vision. Fear that others won't understand your unique perspective. Fear that you'll be judged for trying something that doesn't fit neatly into existing categories. Fear that it will be too much work - like getting on top of a mountain in one step.

The irony is that your many interests and high standards, the very things that make your work unique and different, become the blocks that keep you from creating your work.

Grit vs. Grinding

This is where grit comes in, but not the "grind harder" version that leads to burnout. True grit isn't about forcing yourself through misery. It's about developing the psychological flexibility to act despite uncertainty, to move forward with incomplete information, and to trust that iteration beats ideation.

Psychologist Angela Duckworth defines grit as "passion and perseverance for long-term goals." When you're stuck in inaction, you've usually lost touch with why this project matters to you. You're focused on how it might be received rather than why it needs to exist.

The path out of multi-passionate overwhelm starts with reconnecting to your why, not the logical business case, but the emotional pull that made you care about this idea in the first place.

The Minimum Viable Action

Instead of asking "How do I make this perfect?" start asking "What's the smallest action that would make this real?"

This isn't about lowering your standards. It's about understanding that excellence emerges through iteration, not through extended planning phases. You must embrace being agile in creating. Your first attempt doesn't need to be your final piece of art or project, it needs to be your first proof of concept.

For one creative entrepreneur I worked with, this meant publishing a single blog post instead of waiting to launch a complete content platform. For another generalist, it meant having one conversation with a potential customer instead of building an entire market research plan. In each case, that minimum viable action broke the spell of perfectionism and created momentum.

The Power of "Good Enough to Share"

Creative generalists often struggle with what researchers call "analysis paralysis," the inability to make decisions when faced with multiple good options. You see so many ways your project could evolve that you delay starting until you can pursue all of them simultaneously.

The antidote is embracing "good enough to share." This doesn't mean accepting mediocrity, it means understanding that shared imperfection beats private perfection every time. When you share early versions of your work, you get real feedback that's infinitely more valuable than your inner critic speculating about how it might be received.

Modern tools, including AI productivity tools, can help bridge this gap between vision and execution, allowing you to test ideas quickly and iterate based on real feedback rather than imagined criticism. Whether it's using simple automation to validate market interest or leveraging AI tools for creative professionals to help with initial content creation, technology can help you move from thinking to doing with less friction.

Building Your Action Muscle

Like any skill, taking action despite uncertainty gets easier with practice. Start with low-stakes experiments. Choose projects where failure is informative rather than catastrophic. Give yourself permission to be a beginner again.

Set what I call "learning deadlines" instead of perfection deadlines. Instead of "Launch the perfect course by December," try "Get feedback from 10 people on my course outline by October 15." The first creates pressure to be perfect. The second creates momentum toward improvement.

This approach is particularly effective for portfolio career development, where you're building multiple income streams that need to work together harmoniously rather than perfectly from day one.

The Compound Effect of Small Actions

Here's what happens when you choose action over analysis: each small step gives you information you couldn't have discovered through planning alone.

More importantly, you start building evidence that you can follow through on your ideas. This creates an upward spiral: the more you act, the more confident you become in your ability to act, which makes future action easier. This is how creative generalist success stories are built: one imperfect action at a time.

Moving Forward

The projects sitting in your "someday" pile aren't just abandoned ideas, they're future opportunities waiting for you to develop the courage to be imperfect in public. Your unique perspective and multi-disciplinary thinking are exactly what the world needs, but only if you're willing to share them before they feel finished.

Whether you're building a portfolio career, developing multiple income streams, or simply trying to turn your passions into something meaningful, the gap between intention and action closes not through better planning, but through practiced courage. Start where you are, with what you have, imperfectly but consistently.

Your ideas deserve to exist in the world, not just in your mind.

Struggling to move from intention to action on your creative projects?

I provide career coaching for creative generalists to break through perfectionism and build sustainable momentum toward their biggest goals.

If you're a multi-passionate professional ready to stop planning and start creating, let's talk about how one-on-one coaching can help you bridge that gap.

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Shift Shock and How to Avoid It

Have you ever had this experience: you work so hard to get a new job, maybe even shift careers, and then the minute you’re in your new role, you regret it so completely that you want to run away? Or throw up right where you are… Whatever you feel, it’s so intense that you are left in this catatonic state.

Well, that’s “shift shock.”

According to this article by The Muse, 72% of workers have experienced shift shock. Part of the issue is that we have built up this idea that the grass is greener on the other side of this role or career, and then we feel either a wee bit let down once we get there, or overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity of it. 

There is a lot to be said about the comfort of our old roles. While we may have not enjoyed them so much and there was a reason we wanted to switch careers, we were comfortable in them - both the everyday tasks and the complaining about how we wanted more or something different. Then suddenly you have the role you wanted and everything is new. We don’t know what tasks to get done first, how to navigate the new social scenarios, and what kind of clothes to wear to work every day (especially true if you work from home). 

The darker side of shift shock is when you start a new job and realize your employers have lied about, or didn’t explain, the expectations they have for your role, which leads you to accept the position under the wrong precepts. This is even harder when you are switching to a remote role where conveying expectations is entirely dependent on an interviewer who is not used to the virtual reality you’re entering into. Company culture is also difficult to discern prior to starting when the role is completely online, making shift shock even more apparent and uncomfortable.  

So now that we know what shift shock is - and how common it is - the question becomes, how the heck do we avoid it?

1. State your expectations. When you go for your interview, or start your first day, it is important that you are very clear about your expectations of this role. That means you lay out the exact responsibilities you believe you will have, what your working hours will be like, and describe your work-from-home policy (yes, that’s right, you’re allowed to define how you want to work!) to the interviewer/onboarder so that they can clarify if it fits with theirs. If everyone is starting on the same page, there will be less shift shock.

2. Ask about employee retention. A lot of what creates a great company culture is how the company tries to retain its employees. What do they do that helps their employees? How do they build trust with their employees? Ask those questions and make sure you like the answers. If you don’t, it’s probably going to be harder to adjust to the role. 

3. Meet other employees on LinkedIn. Whether you’re in the interview process or it's your first week, getting information from fellow employees is incredibly important. Networking and reaching out to them on LinkedIn is one way to learn about the company culture and what the company expects of them. If you find out that you are salaried for a 40-hour week, but they expect you to work before and after work, and on the weekends, without overtime, and that doesn’t align with what you want out of the role (or with how life should be), you can jump ship right there.

Don’t be afraid to leave. If you find out that the company misled you about their expectations, it’s okay to leave. While you might have left your prior job, you can still create an exit strategy for this one. I know we are all used to the notion that we must keep a job for at least a year to make our resumes look better, but the reality is, having good mental health is more important. 

Moreover, if you think the shift shock is simply a byproduct of your own expectations not being met, but you know in your gut it will get better as soon as you're comfortable, then just work on getting comfortable. The steps above will still be beneficial - especially if you are trying to meet your co-workers and get to know them. 

Remember, it’s totally normal to feel shift shock. You’ve just campaigned your way out of something you’re familiar with for something new. It’s like being a kindergartner on their first day. You’ve heard so much about this cool place called school and all the things you will experience. You’re excited and ready to start, but then on the first day, you cry at the classroom door because it’s all so overwhelming. Within two weeks, you’re feeling better and love your teacher and classmates. 

Give it some time, but then again, don’t be afraid to switch again if you really know in your heart of hearts you’re not where you want to be. Because you know what, you’re allowed to do that.

Worried about shift shock?

The idea of shift shock can be intimidating - probably more intimidating than actually shifting roles is to you. But not only is it a completely normal feeling, there are things you can do to avoid it.

I help my clients identify the roles they would like to try out to build the lives they want. Part of this is getting clear on the type of company they want to work for. When they enter the interviewing stage, we walk through all the questions they should ask so that they can avoid shift shock when they get the role. If you’re ready to start, I can help!

Schedule your free session!