Laughing Through the Journey: Letting Go of Perfectionism
A couple of months ago, I decided it was time to get a new tattoo. Not just any tattoo—a foo dog. These fierce, majestic guardians had always fascinated me, and I thought, What better way to honor their legacy than by permanently etching one onto my leg?
I brought the idea to my tattoo artist, who came back with a design that was nothing short of breathtaking. It was bold, vibrant, and practically growled off the page. “This is it,” I thought. “This is the tattoo that will blend seamlessly with my collection and make me look even more intimidating.”
Fast-forward to the day of the appointment. I walked into the shop with all the confidence of a guy who had spent hours researching foo dogs on the internet. I had learned something important: foo dogs come in pairs—one male, one female—and the male is always placed on the right side of the entrance. Armed with this knowledge, I was ready to ensure cultural accuracy like the scholar of tattoos I clearly was.
As my artist prepped, he casually mentioned placing the tattoo on my left leg. I stopped him mid-stencil. “No,” I said, with the authority of someone who Googled “foo dog placement” at 2 a.m. “The male foo dog has to go on the right side. It’s tradition.”
He shrugged, adjusted the stencil, and got to work. Hours later, I walked out of the shop with my new ink and the smug satisfaction of someone who thinks they’ve nailed it.
Until I got home.
That’s when it hit me. The male foo dog is supposed to go on the right side when facing the entrance—not standing inside the entrance looking out. I had turned my majestic guardian into a geographically confused pup.
At first, I panicked. What will people think? Will someone call me out for cultural inaccuracies? Will my foo dog lose its mystical powers? But then, I started laughing. It didn’t matter. My tattoo was still amazing, and it had character—much like me.
The whole experience reminded me of something I’ve been working on in my content creation. For years, I’ve been obsessed with getting everything “just right.” I worried about how others would perceive it, whether I’d be criticized, or if I’d miss some invisible standard of perfection.
But here’s the thing: nobody cares about perfection as much as we think they do. And even if they do, they’re probably just trolls—and trolls are great for your algorithms. These days, I respond to negative comments with ridiculous replies that make me laugh. Their trolling helps my engagement, so really, it’s a win-win.
Content creation, like tattoos, isn’t about being perfect. It’s about showing up, sharing your perspective, and having a little fun along the way. My foo dog might be on the “wrong” side, but it’s uniquely mine. And my content might not please everyone, but it reflects where I am on my journey.
Perfection isn’t the goal—progress is. So whether it’s creating content or getting a tattoo, just keep going. Laugh at yourself, embrace the imperfections, and remember: even a misplaced foo dog can still guard the door.
