You don’t need to wait until you’re better with money
Part 3: The Perfectionist's Guide to Getting Good With Money
There once was a man who lived alone on a quiet little island.
From the window of his shack, he had a perfect view of the ocean and, in the distance, the mainland.
One night, as he washed his mug and plate after dinner, he stared out the window at the twinkling lights along the coast. They seemed to say, Come, join us.
But, he liked his little island because it felt safe and predictable. No one could judge him here or make him feel more behind in life than he already did.
He told himself he’d go to the mainland someday. Maybe next week or next month.
Logistics weren’t the issue; he had a sturdy rowboat, and the trip would take less than half an hour.
The problem, he told himself, was his money.
He’d made a few regrettable purchases recently, like financing Metaverse VR goggles and then finding out that no one is ever actually hanging out in the Metaverse! His credit score wasn’t where it “should” be, thanks to a back injury that kept him from working for a few months; the expenses just piled up on the credit card.
He wasn’t destitute, exactly, but when he looked around at his shack, his boat, and the seashell-lined paths, it didn’t feel like much of a life.
Keeping things this way felt responsible and safe. But it also meant staying still, if not stuck.
But, every so often, reminders slipped through, like a friend posting on LinkedIn that she was “thrilled to announce an exciting new food and beverage partnership!” He rolled his eyes, but it stirred up a mix of jealousy and longing. It wasn’t even the life he wanted! But it was proof that she had momentum and belonged somewhere.
He couldn’t think of a single thing he’d want to brag about on social media!
Sure, he’d built an impressive chess set out of driftwood, but he would gladly dropkick it all into the sea if he could just get his hands on a solid paycheck to help him reach his first $100K in retirement.
And yet, even those milestones felt slippery. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d actually felt satisfied with his financial situation. Someone was always doing better. In his mind, the mainland was full of dutiful savers and people who had figured it out. He didn’t belong there.
Staying on this island protected him from that kind of embarrassment, comparison, and risk. But it also kept him invisible and adrift.
Suddenly, as he rinsed off the last bubbles from his nightly washing, he heard a shout.
“Help! Help me!”
A man was flailing in the water, thirty yards offshore.
Hours later, the two men sat wrapped in blankets, warming themselves by the fire.
As the sailor shoveled bowls of oatmeal and berries into his mouth, he told his story: years lost at sea, drifting from place to place, desperate to reconnect with his family, especially his brother in San Francisco.
Without much hesitation, the man decided that in the morning he’d row the sailor back to the mainland. He’d help him get home. He might even pay for a flight back if that’s what it took.
Suddenly, he wasn’t worried about what it would cost, let alone the credit score or the financial benchmarks he hadn’t reached. He had something to do that made him feel like he mattered. Tomorrow, they’d head to the mainland.
As he climbed into bed that night, the man realized then that the island had never truly made him safe. It had only kept him in a state of permanent waiting for his life to become perfect before he could belong. The purpose he felt from the moment he pulled the struggling sailor out of the water had knocked loose something that financial perfection never could:
It softened his shame, loosened his self-criticism, and reminded him that he mattered now, not later when he had all his ducks in row.
Perfectionism promises safety, but purpose actually moves your life forward.
According to social psychology research, the antidote to perfectionism isn’t flawlessness—it’s mattering.
Psychologist Dr. Gordon Flett describes mattering as a more sustainable path to self-worth: knowing that you are important to someone, that your presence and efforts make a difference.
In Parts 1 and 2 of this series, The Perfectionist’s Guide to Getting Good with Money, we explored how financial perfectionism keeps people stuck, distorting both their understanding of how money works and their sense of self-worth. When you believe you don’t measure up, it’s tempting to hide, wait, or isolate until you’re “better.”
Dr. Flett calls the opposite of mattering anti-mattering: feeling invisible, unimportant, or undervalued. That feeling fuels perfectionism; and perfectionism, in turn, deepens isolation.
That’s exactly what was happening on that island. Because the man could only see what was unfinished or unimpressive about his life, he withdrew. And because he withdrew, no one could appreciate his creativity, his generosity, or his willingness to help.
So for all you mainlanders: yes, keep your goals.
Make a realistic plan to pay down debt
Start saving for a down payment
Have regular, honest conversations about money
But remember, it’s also vital that you matter to someone or to a community.
You don’t need to hide behind your financial imperfections—that can be the adhesive that helps you bond and matter to each other.
Make sure that you have support and friend networks that aren’t contingent on how much money you have. Purpose, contribution, and mattering don’t come after you get your financial situation perfect. They’re often what make progress possible in the first place.
Next week, we’ll discuss the messy, sometimes clunky ways that former perfectionists have achieved liftoff.
I’d love to hear from you:
Have money worries ever made you pull back, hide, or isolate yourself? What did that experience teach you about money or about yourself?
Until next time,
Dan



I've absolutely withdrawn, and gone into shame spirals about money before and kept myself on an island. It taught me that no matter how great my YNAB or spreadsheet looks, it isn't what truly matters. Money is a tool, and one that we can use to improve our lives and that of those around us.
Thanks, this was helpful!