I recently taught a law school class, and by the time it was over, I felt like I had completely failed. I walked away replaying everything in my mind, picking apart what I should have done differently. The class didn’t flow the way I wanted it to. I felt like I was talking at my students instead of engaging them. I rambled. I lost my focus.

But as I sat with the discomfort, I realized this class had taught me just as much as I was trying to teach the students. It forced me to confront something I’ve struggled with for a long time—perfectionism.

Perfectionism tells you that your worth is tied to how flawlessly you perform. It convinces you that if something isn’t done perfectly, then it’s not worth doing at all. And that belief? It’s exhausting.

1. The Perfectionist Trap: Always Trying to “Get It Right”

I went into this class wanting to nail it. I wanted to sound smart, to engage the students, to have all the answers. But when I started feeling like I was losing them, I panicked. Instead of stepping back and adjusting, I doubled down—I filled every silence with more facts, trying to prove that I knew what I was talking about.

That’s the perfectionist trap. When something isn’t going perfectly, perfectionists don’t pivot—they try harder, push more, force it. But in doing so, they lose presence, flow, and connection.

The irony? My class was about how society determines who is “deserving” and who isn’t. And yet, I was deciding that I didn’t deserve grace for my own mistakes.

2. Intimidation Is a Reflection of Our Own Self-Doubt

Another thing I didn’t expect? To feel intimidated by the students.

Before I even started teaching, they were discussing their work, sharing case updates, and sounding incredibly put together. And suddenly, I found myself thinking, What can I possibly teach them?

That moment taught me something profound: confidence doesn’t always mean certainty—it’s often just how people present themselves. And more importantly, I realized that I had likely been on the other side of this before. There have probably been times when people felt intimidated by me, assuming I knew more than I did simply because I sounded confident.

That hit me hard. Because the truth is, I’ve had moments where I felt jealous or insecure around others who seemed more competent than me, and I never fully understood why. But now I get it—it wasn’t jealousy. It was the fear that I wasn’t enough in comparison.

Realizing this made me reflect: If I can recognize that these students weren’t necessarily more knowledgeable—just more confident—then why can’t I extend that same understanding to myself?

3. You Can’t Push Away Insecurity—You Have to Work Through It

The worst thing I did in that class? I ignored my feelings instead of working through them.

When I started feeling intimidated, I pushed it aside. When I felt like I was losing the class, I forced my way through it. I was so determined to not let my emotions affect my teaching that they ended up taking over anyway.

That’s the thing about perfectionism—it tricks you into thinking that if you just push through hard enough, you can outwork your self-doubt. But that’s not how it works. When we don’t acknowledge our feelings, they find ways to surface.

If I could go back, I wouldn’t try to power through my insecurity. I’d pause, take a deep breath, and remind myself:

• Feeling uncertain doesn’t mean I don’t belong.
• I don’t need to have all the answers to be a good teacher.
• My worth is not determined by one class, one moment, or one perceived mistake.

4. Teaching (and Life) Is About Holding Space, Not Being Perfect

Perfectionism tells us that our value comes from performance—that we have to be the best, the most knowledgeable, the most put-together. But that’s not what teaching is about. And it’s not what life is about either.

I got so caught up in wanting to sound smart that I forgot the real goal of the class: creating a space where people can engage, think, and learn.

That means asking more questions instead of just giving answers. That means allowing moments of silence instead of rushing to fill them. That means accepting that some conversations will be messy and imperfect, and that’s okay.

If I had approached this class with less pressure to “get it right,” I probably would have been a better teacher. Because perfectionism doesn’t make us better—it just makes us more afraid of failing.

Final Thoughts: What I’m Taking With Me

• Perfectionism doesn’t serve me. Letting go does.
• Intimidation is often just our own self-doubt reflected back at us.
• I don’t need to have all the answers to be valuable.
• The best way to overcome self-doubt is to acknowledge it, not suppress it.

This class didn’t go the way I wanted it to. But maybe it went the way I needed it to.

Because at the end of the day, perfection isn’t the goal. Growth is. And that means allowing myself to be human, even when it’s uncomfortable.