The More You Force It, the Worse It Gets

The urge to erase every flaw traps us in a cycle where satisfaction and contentment feel increasingly out of reach

During an important interview or exam, we might feel we have to perform perfectly, or else, leading to anxiety and underperformance.

In a romantic relationship, we might expect our partner to fulfil certain needs. Only to find out, to our chagrin, that they were never on the same page and refuse to behave the way we want them to.

When pursuing a goal, we might feel we need to make the most of every second, only to become frustrated by the time we inevitably waste and all that we still haven’t accomplished.

In all these situations, we feel a sense of internal tension: an inability to let go, and a desperate need for things to align with our sense of how they ‘should’ be.

When we develop a perfectionistic attitude about anything, we can’t help but develop a heightened sensitivity toward imperfections. The more we try to achieve perfection, the more flaws, however minor, we inevitably notice. The urge to erase every flaw traps us in a cycle where satisfaction and contentment feel increasingly out of reach. It’s like polishing a mirror that reveals more smudges the more we scrub.

We might feel we can’t afford to let go, or else things will go wrong in intolerable ways. But perhaps this desire to control is the problem. The more we try to exert control over ourselves or others, the less in control we feel, and the more burned out and frustrated we become. Eventually, this system breaks—not because we didn’t work or try hard enough, but because our efforts to be perfect or always in control collapsed under their own weight.

These desires aren’t inherently unreasonable. We all seek clarity, excellence, love, meaning. But the mind doesn’t understand these ideas in a vacuum—it defines them against their opposites. It’s like standing before the Eiffel Tower and feeling a sense of awe, not because the structure is inherently majestic, but because it stands in contrast to everything else we are familiar with. The suburbs we passed through on the way to the airport, the bland buildings en route to the Eiffel Tower, the fatigue of travel—all of it made the moment matter. Without the ordinary, the extraordinary has no weight. Without the undesirable, the desirable loses all meaning.

The more we try to fixate on one side in isolation, the more the other rushes in. The more we demand one, the more we magnify the shadow of the other in our minds. Meaning is created through contrast.

The more we obsess over doing well in an interview or exam, the more vividly the thought of failure appears in our mind. That’s why we feel nervous, jittery, and end up choking under pressure.

When we harbour expectations of our partner, we become more conscious of their shortcomings. Our minds narrow in on all the ways they fall short and fail to satisfy us.

When we plan our every day to the minute, as if we’re running a multinational corporation, we become increasingly wary of every minute of procrastination and frustrated by every activity that took longer than we expected to complete.

Perhaps it’s only when we allow ourselves to relax, waste time, miss personal deadlines, and make mistakes that we begin to feel in control, energised, and creatively engaged. Perhaps it’s only when we let go of trying to control or ‘fix’ others—by being more accommodating or walking away—that we can begin to build healthier relationships. The process of letting go means learning to stop feeding the urge to force outcomes—a journey unique to everyone, and one that, ironically, cannot be forced.

Voltaire said that “perfect is the enemy of good,” because perfection—though illusory and unattainable—not only stands in the way of progress, but is ultimately hollow. If we had everything we wished for—endless pleasure, zero hardship, total certainty—would we even recognise any of it as happiness? Even paradise, without the pain and struggle of life, might feel more like numbness than bliss. Perhaps struggle and imperfection aren’t obstacles to meaning, but the very things that make meaning possible.