The Freedom to Be Brilliant… or an Idiot

So how’s your summer going? Don’t worry, that wasn’t a trick question – you don’t get extra points for sailing around Greece or posting photos with suspiciously large watermelons (or mushrooms!). 

 I’ve been noticing lately that overcoming shame and guilt rarely arrives as some grand, cinematic breakthrough, it’s usually just a quiet decision to stop punishing yourself for being human.

Personally, my summer in my new home of Portugal has been less about exotic adventures and more about lugging boxes across Lagos, trying to convince myself that “moving is a workout” while setting up my new home and studio. (Spoiler: moving is not a workout, it’s a hostage situation with cardboard.) But this time? There’s a backyard… and a pool. That’s right, I’ve officially upgraded to backyard-and-pool life, and I can’t wait to splash into this next chapter.

In between packing tape battles and daydreaming about pool floats, I did manage to squeeze in two intriguing weeks at boom (and pre-Boom). That psytrance fest was its own kind of magic, and if you missed it, I wrote all about that adventure here.

The Weight of Perfectionism

With the juggling act of moving… boxes, deadlines, snap decisions – some brilliant and some a total flop, I’ve had to lean on something steadier: the way I see myself.

When the reflex to perform perfectly feels less like ambition and more like survival from old patterns, that’s often where the real work of releasing childhood wounds begins.

Because here’s the truth: back in the day, I used to treat every choice like a pass/fail test.” If I got it right, relief. If I messed up, shame. And shame always carried the same message: If you blow this, people will think less of you. And maybe you’ll think less of you too. 

No wonder perfectionism sneaks in – it’s just shame in a tuxedo. It says, “If you can do it flawlessly, then no one (including yourself) will reject you.” Exhausting logic, but I lived by it for years decades. Learning to separate your genuine sense of self worth from your daily mistakes is exactly where overcoming shame and guilt begins.

And honestly? That old voice, my cruel stepfather’s favorite line, “You’re an idiot!” was my inner soundtrack for a long time. If I spilled coffee on my white shirt before a meeting or sent the email to the wrong person, there it was: “Idiot!” on repeat. Not exactly poolside reading, but adverse childhood experiences research does explain why voices installed early can echo through the smallest adult mishaps.

But eventually, I realized the only way out wasn’t to nail everything perfectly; it was to change the way I responded when I didn’t. That shift opened up a whole new way of holding myself, one that made room for all my sides. It was the beginning of learning how to actually like myself, even when I tripped, forgot, or botched something. And that little step toward self-like (long before the lofty idea of self-love) gave me the freedom to see myself as a whole person, not just a running scorecard of wins and failures.

Brilliant and Idiot, Both Before Lunch

Hence… sometimes I’m brilliant, sometimes I’m an idiot – and most of the time I’m both before lunch. And sure, it’s lovely when someone sees me as brilliant. I won’t lie, I enjoy that sparkle. But that’s not the point anymore. The point is, I don’t lose myself when I’m less than brilliant. I can laugh, call myself out, and move on without shame sinking its claws in.

And that’s what I want for you, too. Because if you’ve wrestled with shame, you know how heavy it feels: always bracing for rejection, convinced you have to perform your way into love. 

But what if you didn’t? What if you could fumble, spill, forget, and still belong – to others and to yourself?

That’s the real freedom. Not getting everything right, not always being “seen” as brilliant, but knowing you’re still whole when you’re not. It’s a quiet kind of emotional empowerment, not the loud, motivational-poster kind, but the kind that lets you breathe a little deeper in your own skin.

So here’s to summer, to backyards and fresh starts, to idiot moments and flashes of brilliance. And here’s to quieting shame’s voice so we can actually enjoy this messy, marvelous ride.

Now I’m curious! How is your summer unfolding? Adventures, lazy days, maybe a few idiot moments of your own? Share them with me please – I’m all ears! 

With Love,
Becca