Ever catch yourself triple-checking that you locked the front door, even though you know you already did? Or lying awake replaying a conversation from earlier, wondering if you said the right thing?
I do this constantly. And lately, I’ve been connecting the dots between my own anxiety patterns and something that runs much deeper: A childhood where failure wasn’t just discouraged, it was practically forbidden.
Growing up, I was the kid with perfect attendance, straight A’s, and a smile that never wavered in public. My parents meant well, they really did.
They wanted to protect me from disappointment and set me up for success. But somewhere along the way, that protection became a prison of perfectionism that I’m still working to escape from.
Now, as I watch my own little ones stumble through learning to tie shoes and navigate playground politics, I see how desperately I want to swoop in and fix everything for them. It takes every ounce of self-control to step back and let them figure it out themselves.
Psychology research backs up what I’m discovering in my own journey: Kids who were never allowed to fail often grow into adults carrying some pretty heavy baggage. These limiting beliefs shape how we see ourselves, our relationships, and our place in the world.
Let me share what I’ve learned about these beliefs, both from research and from my own ongoing recovery from perfectionism.
1) “My worth depends on my achievements”
This one hits close to home. When you grow up in an environment where every gold star matters and every B+ feels like failure, you start believing that you’re only as good as your last accomplishment.
I remember transitioning from teaching to freelance writing at 30, and the panic that set in when I wasn’t getting immediate validation through grades or performance reviews anymore. Without those external markers of success, who was I?
The truth is, we’re teaching our kids this same belief every time we lead with “Did you win?” instead of “Did you have fun?” or when we plaster their achievements all over social media but stay quiet about their everyday kindness or creativity.
2) “Mistakes are catastrophic”
When failure isn’t an option growing up, your brain learns to treat every mistake like a five-alarm fire. That typo in an email? Disaster. Forgot to reply to a text? They must hate you now.
This belief turns us into anxious adults who catastrophize everything. We become paralyzed by decisions because what if we choose wrong? We avoid trying new things because what if we’re not immediately good at them?
3) “I must be in control at all times”
Kids who weren’t allowed to fail often had adults constantly managing their environment to ensure success. Soccer practice at 4, tutoring at 5, homework check at 7. Every moment orchestrated, every outcome predetermined.
Fast forward to adulthood, and we’re the ones with color-coded calendars, backup plans for our backup plans, and a deep sense of unease when things don’t go according to schedule. We mistake control for safety, not realizing that life’s beauty often lives in the unplanned moments.
4) “Asking for help means I’m weak”
Have you ever spent hours struggling with something rather than admit you need help? Yeah, me too. When you grow up believing you should be able to handle everything perfectly, asking for help feels like admitting defeat.
This belief isolates us. It makes us terrible delegators, exhausted partners, and burnt-out parents. We’d rather suffer in silence than risk appearing incompetent.
5) “I’m only lovable when I’m perfect”
This might be the most damaging belief of all. When love and approval in childhood felt conditional on performance, we grow up constantly performing for affection.
We become adults who apologize for having needs, who can’t set boundaries, who exhaust themselves trying to be everything to everyone. We fear that if people see our flaws, they’ll leave.
6) “There’s only one right way to do things”
Growing up with helicopter parents often means growing up with very specific instructions on how everything should be done. Load the dishwasher this way. Study using this method. Solve problems using this approach.
As adults, this manifests as rigidity. We struggle with creative problem-solving, get frustrated when others don’t do things “correctly,” and miss out on innovative solutions because we’re stuck in the one way we know works.
7) “I can’t trust my own judgment”
When adults constantly intervene to prevent failure, kids never develop confidence in their own decision-making abilities. Every choice gets second-guessed by someone older and wiser.
Now? We’re the adults who can’t pick a restaurant without reading 47 reviews, who text friends for advice on the smallest decisions, who lie awake wondering if we made the right choice about literally everything.
8) “Vulnerability is dangerous”
If you were never allowed to fail, you probably also weren’t allowed to be fully human. Negative emotions got managed away, struggles got solved before you could fully experience them.
This creates adults who armor up against vulnerability. We struggle with intimacy because letting someone see us struggle feels too risky. We keep people at arm’s length rather than risk them seeing us as anything less than composed.
9) “I must prove myself constantly”
That childhood pressure to always succeed doesn’t just disappear when we grow up. It transforms into a relentless need to prove ourselves worthy of our job, our relationships, our space in the world.
We become adults who can’t rest, who turn hobbies into side hustles, who feel guilty for taking breaks. Nothing ever feels like enough because we’re still trying to earn something that should have been freely given: Unconditional acceptance.
10) “Other people’s emotions are my responsibility”
When parents shield kids from failure, they often also shield them from disappointment, frustration, and other difficult emotions. Kids learn that negative feelings should be fixed immediately, usually by someone else.
As adults, we become emotional caretakers, constantly scanning for signs of distress in others and rushing to fix it. We take responsibility for everyone’s happiness and blame ourselves when we can’t make everything better.
Breaking the cycle
Recognizing these beliefs is just the first step. The real work comes in challenging them daily, especially when raising our own kids.
Some days I succeed at stepping back and letting my children experience natural consequences. Other days, I catch myself hovering, ready to cushion every fall.
My parents still raise eyebrows at what they call my “hippie parenting,” though they’re slowly understanding that letting kids fail isn’t neglect, it’s love.
Recovery from these limiting beliefs isn’t linear. I still double-check locks and replay conversations. But now I recognize these behaviors for what they are: Echoes of a childhood where imperfection felt dangerous.
The gift we can give our children, and ourselves, is permission to be gloriously, messily human. To fail and recover. To struggle and grow. To be loved not for what we achieve, but for who we are, imperfections and all.
