When Did “Good” Stop Being Good Enough?

Why does 65% no longer feel like a pass?

Dear reader,

Happy New Year!

So, I had a very strange realisation at the end of 2025. In the beautiful, complicated, and twisted journey of my life, somewhere along the way, “good” stopped feeling like success. Only better. Only more. Only perfect began to count. And that’s not how my mother raised me.

As many of you know, I’ve recently started my master’s degree. A few weeks ago, I submitted my first assignment, my first piece of academic writing in over eleven years.

I finished it on time.
I earned a merit.
I should have felt proud.

Instead, my first instinct was to open the feedback and search for what I’d done wrong. I skimmed past the praise. I barely registered the things that worked. All I could see were the “next steps”. What I needed to do to reach 80%, to get that distinction.

For the first week after receiving the feedback, you’d honestly think I’d failed the assignment altogether.

What struck me later was how familiar that reaction felt. It reminded me of the same instinct that drives us to apply filters, the quiet dissatisfaction with what’s already there. The sense that what exists isn’t quite enough, that it needs refining, improving, perfecting before it can be seen or celebrated.

I started to notice that this doesn’t just happen with faces or bodies. It happens with achievements too.

In a space where everyone shares their best scores, biggest wins, and most impressive milestones, simply doing the thing can feel insignificant. Starting something new. Completing it. Even daring to step outside your comfort zone can feel strangely small when placed next to someone else’s highlight reel.

Yet those first steps are often the biggest ones.

As I write this, my mind goes to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, the moment when he has to step forward before the bridge appears. The hardest part wasn’t crossing the bridge. It was stepping onto something he couldn’t yet see.

We’re very good at celebrating the finish line. The outcome. The result. But it’s the leap of faith, the beginning, that stories teach us to honour. And I think it’s time we started doing that in our own lives.

You can even see this here on Substack. Lately, I keep reading notes that say things like, “I just hit 11,000 subscribers in 12 days!”

And genuinely, wow. Good for you. But o my gosh really? (To my own small but mighty group of readers: I’m deeply grateful for you.)

So, this year, I’m making a conscious edit to my thinking.

My New Year’s resolution for 2026 isn’t to be better, faster, or stronger. It’s to notice what I usually dismiss. To name the small wins. To support them. And to celebrate them, especially the ones that come before certainty.

Because once that first step is taken, all I have to do is follow my feet. I don’t need the full plan, or a clear map, or the reassurance that I’m doing it perfectly. I just need to keep moving, trusting that each step will show me the next one. The pressure to have everything figured out fades once motion begins. Progress doesn’t come from certainty; it comes from courage. And sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is stop waiting for confidence and start walking anyway.

So, I’ll leave you with this:
Where in your life have you overlooked “good,” believing it wasn’t enough?
And what small, quiet leap of faith are you standing on the edge of right now?

I’d love to hear it. And I’d love to support you.

Much love,

Jessica

And Happy New Year!