How Perfectionism Hurts Your Sex Life (And What to Do About It)
“You’re a perfectionist.”
That’s what my therapist in told me one day in her cozy, book-filled office. I was mid-sentence, sharing a story with way too much detail when she hit me with that label.
I laughed. “Oh my god, I wish! That’s so sweet of you, but really—I’m not.” I said, flicking my wrist dramatically. Her eyes got wide in that we’re-gonna-need-a-bigger-boat way. I was half-joking. Of course, I had heard that perfectionism is like...bad. But there was a part of me that loved being described with a word that derived from perfect.
I have a very Pinterest-friendly image of what a perfectionist looks like: sleek ponytail, color-coded notes, emotionally reserved, never late, always calm, manicured hands. How could I fix “perfectionist” when that was what I’d been striving for?
What would take me some time to learn is that perfectionism isn’t just about being neat or getting straight A’s—it can look like anxiety, procrastination, fear of failure, or low self-worth.
And it was quietly running my life.
What Is Perfectionism, Really?
Someone who holds herself to impossibly high standards—and beats herself up for not meeting them. That is perfectionism. And perfectionist thinking shows up in sneaky ways, especially around sex and intimacy.
I’ll have clients who are also perfectionists — and to be fair, this has usually served them pretty well. They’re high-achieving, independent, go-getters and boss-babes, entrepreneurs, bread winners, and head of the house. Yet when they come to me, all of their usual tools of more effort, zoning in, fixing the problem, getting it done — don’t work. Exploring sexuality requires a very different skillset.
How Perfectionism Shows Up in Sexuality
Perfectionism thrives on measurable results like grades, titles, achievements, clean checklists. But sexuality isn’t a performance. It’s not something you can measure with metrics, or master with degrees and books.
Still, perfectionism tried to follow me into this work—both professionally as a sex coach, and personally in my own life.
It told me:
I should show up (on social media, in the bedroom) like a sex goddess (aka look hot)
I should always know the right thing to say (to clients, my partner).
I should never feel confused in my own sex life.
I should be an expert—flawless, confident, unshakable.
When I sat down to look at my own thoughts I noticed I wasn’t showing up with curiosity anymore. I was showing up in fear and rigidity.
Sexuality Is an Intuitive, Imperfect Process
Sexuality isn’t a subject that bends to control. It’s messy. It’s ancient. It’s nonlinear. It doesn’t care certifications or clinical studies or self-help books. It’s a map-less territory that requires you to navigate using your gut instincts. Perfectionism, is the opposite of the fluid, natural unfolding that happens with my clients.
True intimacy, sensuality, and erotic expression all require vulnerability—not polished performance.
When I first started studying sexuality, I was enthralled. I followed threads of desire and identity like they were breadcrumbs. I asked questions. I read widely. I tried things. I wasn’t afraid of getting it wrong.
That’s how growth happens. Not by aiming for perfection, but by being willing to explore.
Perfectionism Is About People-Pleasing, Not Passion
When I see clients who are trying to get their relationships perfect, I actually see a deep fear of being rejected and being denied love.
Perfectionism in relationships and sexuality is trying to tell you something.
Behind all of the relationship quizzes and podcast and books they have been through is this deep craving to be accepted and loved.
But sex and relationships don’t respond to performance. It responds to presence.
When we’re grounded, curious, and connected to our own body—the beast of perfectionism quiets down.
Final Thoughts: Embrace Imperfection to Embrace Yourself
If you’ve ever found yourself trying to be the perfect partner, lover, or even the “best” version of yourself sexually—take a breath. Perfectionism has no place in your intimate life.
The more you let go of performance, the more space you create for:
Pleasure
Connection
Healing
Authenticity
Sexuality doesn’t demand perfection. It invites presence.
And that’s more than enough.