The Note I Sent Without Editing
Last Tuesday, I drafted a therapy note for a firefighter client. Standard stuff: Client reported reduced hypervigilance after grounding exercise. Suggested journaling prompt.
My military brain kicked in. Too vague. Needs specifics. Should cite the protocol. I deleted it. Rewrote. Deleted again. Checked the word count. Added a reference to the Journal of Trauma Nursing. Deleted it all.
For 20 minutes, I sat frozen. The perfectionism wasn’t about the client—it was about me. If I don’t get this exactly right, I’m failing them. I’d seen too many first responders crumble under that weight.
Then I remembered: Courage isn’t what you think. It’s not flawless execution. It’s sending the note as is.
I hit send. No edits. No second-guessing.
It was tiny. To anyone else, it was invisible. But to me? It was the first time I’d let a professional output be good enough without armor. I didn’t collapse. The client didn’t lose trust. The world didn’t end.
Why it mattered: It proved I could trust my own judgment. Not the rigid standards drilled into me in combat medevac. Not the “perfect” notes I’d written for years. Just me, doing the work without the fear of being “wrong.”
Here’s what works: Stop editing your humanity. Perfectionism is the enemy of healing—yours and your clients’. When you send the note, the email, the text without the extra polish? That’s the real courage. That’s how you show up, not as a flawless machine, but as a human who’s been through the fire and still chooses to help.
That firefighter will get the help they need. And so will I.
— Lois Brown, still serving
— Roger Jackson, finally at peace with the man in the mirror