This morning I’m celebrating. I did something last night for the very first time.

I walked on stage alone, opened my mouth, and sang. I’ve marveled at every singing performance I ever attended, wondering, how do they do that? And now, I can say, I have.  

I’m a high-achiever. I say that with a bit of embarrassment. It feels like a pejorative term—the student who does it all, who joins and excels in every club, who aces the exams and the extra credit project, who screws up the curve for everyone else.

And yet, as I would encourage a client to do, I try to see the strengths in this approach to life as well. I’m (mostly) self-motivated. I set high standards for myself. I’m always looking for the next place where I can rise to the occasion and see myself do something amazing.

Of course, what comes with this high-achieving mindset, for me and many of the physicians I work with, is a hesitancy to try something that we probably won’t master right away. I don’t like to be a beginner. I feel uncomfortable being “bad” at something. My default is to think I shouldn’t try if I can’t excel right away.

As I grow older, I’m learning to take advantage of the high-achiever parts of me by quieting the need to be “good” immediately. I’m more willing to step up, be vulnerable, and try.

Several years ago, I said yes to a surfing lesson, which ended up being one of the peak experiences of my life. The TEDx talk I gave in February was another stretch goal where I had to accept being less than perfect, especially in rehearsals.

And then there’s last night, when I stepped on stage for a solo audition, and for the first time in my life, sang alone, something I have dreamed of doing for decades. I have no idea how the audition went, and it almost doesn’t matter if I get a part. The big thrill for me was following my impetus to achieve while allowing myself to be a newbie.

But this is what I had to learn first: it’s okay to be a beginner and vulnerable. Our worth isn’t tied to being perfect.

If you’re a high-achiever, where might letting go of perfect be useful? What stretch goal or peak experience is waiting for you to free yourself of those shackles and just go for it?