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Relationships Aren’t About Perfection—They’re About Repair
- Jessicah Walker Herche, PhD, HSPP
- Jul 28
- 5 min read
Unlearning the shame of messing up and embracing the courage of making things right.
For many of us, the early lessons about right and wrong weren’t taught through connection—they were taught through correction. A misstep would be met with criticism: Why did you do that? You know better. There wasn’t room for curiosity or understanding. Just the assumption that we should have known better—and because we didn’t, something in us needed fixing. For many high achievers, this became an internalized contract: be good, get it right, and avoid disapproval at all costs.
What followed wasn’t conversation, but consequence. The talking came mostly at us, not with us. A lecture, a punishment, and then—once the emotional tone softened—we were expected to apologize. Sometimes gently guided. Sometimes clearly required. Either way, the order was consistent: mistake, correction, consequence… and then repair, but only after we had been brought low enough to offer it.
That pattern may not have seemed harmful on the surface. But underneath it was a message that stuck: you are most lovable when you’ve learned your lesson. The apology didn’t always come from insight or growth—it often came from vulnerability, from being ashamed and softened by pain. And over time, repair became something we performed to prove our remorse, not something we were taught to practice as a way to rebuild connection.
Even now, when we’re committed to showing up differently in our relationships—with empathy, accountability, and care—those early imprints don’t just disappear. We might find ourselves feeling guiltier than the moment calls for. We might hear an old voice whispering, You should have known better. We might wonder, How many times can I apologize before it stops meaning something?
These aren’t questions rooted in the present—they’re echoes of a past that taught us perfection was safer than repair.
(For many high achievers, these early wounds can show up as a relentless drive to be perfect—an attempt to avoid criticism and secure love. Unpacking Childhood Wounds That Drive Overachievement explores how these patterns form and what healing can look like.)
But what if the point of love isn’t to “get it right” all the time?
What if the strength of a relationship isn’t measured by how few mistakes we make—but by how we move through the inevitable ones?
Real, lasting connection isn’t about perfection. It’s about repair. And repair is not a sign that we’ve failed. It’s a sign that we’re still trying. That we care enough to come back to the conversation. That we are willing to face discomfort, take responsibility, and move toward one another again.
Repair doesn’t mean glossing over what happened. It doesn’t mean saying sorry to make things go away. It means staying in the process long enough to understand the impact of our actions—even when our intentions were good. It means naming our part with honesty, offering care to the other person’s experience, and—maybe hardest of all—treating ourselves with compassion too.
Because here’s the truth: You can mess up and still be trustworthy. You can hurt someone and still be worthy of closeness. You can apologize more than once, and it doesn’t mean your apology means less. It means you’re human. And healing.
When we were younger, our mistakes may have been met with distance, control, or shame. But as adults, we have the chance to create something different—relationships that honor the complexity of being human. Where we don’t have to earn love through flawlessness, and where repair becomes a sacred rhythm rather than a final resort.
Repair Starts With You
Before we can repair with others, we often have to learn how to repair with ourselves. Not in a self-indulgent way—but in a deeply honest and humane way. If we meet our own missteps with harshness, it’s hard to offer anything different to the people we care about.
This is especially true for high achievers—those of us who’ve learned to measure our worth by how well we perform or how rarely we mess up.
Self-repair might sound like:
“I didn’t handle that how I wanted to—but I can make it right.”
“That wasn’t my best moment, and it doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.”
“I can feel the guilt creeping in… but I’m allowed to grow without tearing myself down.”
It might look like taking a breath before spiraling. Placing a hand on your chest. Remembering you’re still learning. It’s not about avoiding responsibility—it’s about taking responsibility without shame being in the driver’s seat.
When we start here—with softness toward ourselves—we show up to repair with others from a more grounded, less defensive place.
What Repair With Others Can Look Like
Repairing with someone else doesn’t require a perfect script. It just requires presence, humility, and a willingness to stay connected through discomfort.
A meaningful repair might sound like:
“I see how my words landed, and I’m really sorry for the impact.”
“You didn’t deserve that tone. I was frustrated, but that wasn’t fair to you.”
“Can we talk about what happened earlier? I want to make things right between us.”
Sometimes it’s just sitting together and saying, “I know that didn’t feel good. I care about you too much to leave it there.”
Repair also includes follow-through—doing the work to shift patterns over time. But it begins with re-opening the door to connection. It says: we’re on the same team, even when things get hard.
If you and your partner are ready to practice repair in a deeper way, couples therapy can offer the tools and support to help you rebuild trust, communicate with care, and grow together—especially when it feels hard.
It’s Not About Getting It Right—It’s About Coming Back
If you grew up in a system that prized perfection and offered love through performance, then choosing repair—real, heartfelt, connective repair—is one of the bravest things you can do. It means you’re no longer living in reaction to the past. It means you’re choosing to build something more honest. More human.
Repair invites us back into relationship. With ourselves. With each other. It reminds us that trust isn’t built through flawless behavior—it’s built through the willingness to keep showing up, even after we’ve missed the mark.
So if you’re in the thick of it—wrestling with guilt, trying to find the right words, wondering if you’re getting it wrong too often—let this be your reminder: you don’t have to be perfect to be loved. You just have to be willing to return.
Learn more about therapy for high achievers—or reach out today to schedule a session with one of our highly skilled therapists who can walk with you as you move toward connection, compassion, and repair.
Disclaimer: The information provided on this blog is for educational purposes only and is not intended to replace professional psychological care, professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.
