The Anxious Achiever

8 Perfectionism

In 2018 I had a panic attack while beginning a book lecture at my local public library. I stood at the lectern and became unable to breathe. Nauseous, I felt as if I were about to faint. As it became obvious that I couldn’t speak, someone in the audience yelled, “I think we should call 911—she needs an ambulance.” I knew, though, that this was a panic attack. I wasn’t physically ill. My perfectionism had frozen me, and terrified the poor audience.

When I had the chance to unpack things a little, I realized that the pressure to deliver in my hometown was too great. These were people I might even know, and they’d given up an evening of their time to see me, who would surely disappoint them. It was the first solo talk I’d given ...