How slow stitching helps you break free from perfectionism
- Ruth Woods
- Aug 26
- 5 min read
When was the last time you allowed yourself to play with stitching or hand stitching - without pressure to finish or perfect it??
You’re sitting in your favourite crafting spot, surrounded by your favourite fabrics and threads. You start moving them around, thinking about what you might make - and then suddenly, you stop. You look down at the pile again and start to second-guess yourself. Have I chosen the right fabrics? Do they actually work together? Is this just going to end up looking like a mess?
Maybe your heart lit up with excitement at first, but then a quiet voice whispered, “What if it doesn’t turn out right?”
Perhaps you decided you needed better fabric or a more inspiring idea. Maybe you've even cut out the fabric and prepared the pattern - but now it sits as an unfinished project. Quietly waiting. Each time you pass it, you feel a small wave of guilt or frustration. So instead of making, you wait. And slowly, waiting turns into avoiding. Does that kind of creative block feel familiar?
If it does, you’re certainly not alone.
For many of us who practice slow stitching, hand sewing or textile work that hesitation doesn't stem from a lack of skill or talent. It’s not even that we don’t know how to begin. It comes instead from perfectionism, that subtle, persuasive voice that quietly insists, “Not yet. Not good enough. Keep tweaking.”
This is especially true in mindful crafts like hand stitching or embroidery, where the pressure to be precise can quietly overshadow the joy of the process. Perfectionism is clever like that. It freezes you in place, becoming a thief of your joy. While it whispers its doubts, hours quietly slip away. Days can pass. Weeks, even. And the ideas that once excited you remain locked away, unfinished or never even started.
Why unfinished slow stitching projects still matter
Here’s something we don’t often admit: you don’t have to finish everything you start.
Making can simply be about playing, not perfectionism.
Imagine this: You pick up a needle and thread, just to feel how it moves in your fingers today. You select colours simply because they delight your eyes. You stitch freely using intuitive stitching - no rules, no right or wrong.
Many of the most beautiful creations don’t reveal their true magic until much later. At first glance, they may seem messy, awkward, imperfect. But given space, those spontaneous choices, those uncertain stitches, can blossom into something you never imagined. Something wonderfully, unexpectedly beautiful.
Letting go of perfectionism through mindful hand stitching
Think honestly: When was the last time you allowed yourself to truly play, not to achieve, impress, or complete, but simply for the joy of it?
Consider the word play. How does it resonate within you? Does it trigger discomfort, feeling like wasted time or something you no longer deserve? Or does it gently open something within you, a distant memory of joy, curiosity, or quiet delight?
In our busy, outcome-driven world, genuine play often feels like a luxury we can’t afford. Creativity becomes tied to productivity, something measurable and shareable, justified by results. But play doesn’t thrive in those conditions.
Real play is exploration without expectation.
It’s allowing your fingers to follow threads of curiosity. It’s embracing colour combinations intuitive stitches or simple mark making with thread that pleases your eye. It’s stitching without judgement, feeling each stitch as it lands, noticing how colours and textures make your heart beat just a bit faster.
Play isn’t about rushing, performing, or proving worthiness. It’s a gentle invitation to slow down, to reconnect, and to let something authentic emerge.
So perhaps the question to ask yourself now is: How does the idea of play feel in your body at this moment? Does it weigh heavy like another obligation, or does it lighten something inside you, feeling like a deep breath you hadn’t realised you needed?
Your answer will speak louder than perfectionism ever could.
My slow stitching journey: From fear of imperfection to joyful making
Only ten years ago, I didn’t do any hand stitching at all. I thought my work wasn’t neat enough and assumed hand-stitched projects needed to be flawless. I saw myself strictly as a sewing machine kind of sewer. But when I started noticing the slow stitching movement, something shifted.
I got curious...and then completely hooked. It turned out, the messiness didn’t matter at all. In fact, it became part of the joy. I’ve now got plenty of unfinished slow-stitching pieces and more than a few messy ones. I love raw edges, selvedge edges, embracing imperfect stitches and I’m a repeat offender when it comes to leaving threads hanging - a terrible habit, maybe, but it’s very me. There’s nothing more comforting than an evening curled up in my chair, surrounded by unruly fabrics and tangled threads, not quite sure where things will end up.
A couple of books have become companions on this journey too: The Reader’s Digest Book of Needlecraft and Slow Stitch by Claire Wellesley-Smith. They’ve really encouraged me to lean into my own style of stitching, and to keep experimenting.
How an ugly doll reminded me to let go
Kim Werker, in her book Mighty Ugly, shares a charming story that beautifully illustrates the power of embracing imperfection—something that deeply resonates with anyone who's ever struggled to start due to fear of not being perfect. shares a charming story about intentionally creating an ugly doll at a craft gathering. She deliberately chose awful fabric, didn’t stress about neat seams, and embraced the chaos of it all.
And the unexpected result? It became the most joy-filled crafting experience she ever had. That doll, meant to be ugly, emerged delightfully imperfect, radiating an unexpected charm.
That’s the quiet magic of letting go. When we stop striving so hard for perfection, we create space for authenticity and unexpected beauty.
Start slow stitching today - no pressure, just one small stitch
If perfectionism has kept you trapped, waiting for the perfect moment or ideal project, let your first step be stitching something gentle and small. Taking these small steps is powerful because it gently rebuilds your creative confidence, reconnects you to the joy of making, and quietly silences perfectionism's critical whispers.
It might be stitching a tiny hole in your favourite tablecloth, picking a new thread colour simply because you love it, or creating something delightfully manageable. It’s a gentle reminder that creativity feels good when the pressure to perform is removed.
These small acts matter deeply. Perfectionism thrives on expectations and pressure, but when you strip those away, you grant yourself permission to breathe, discover, and reconnect with the joy of simply making.
If you're ready to explore slow stitching in your own way - mess and all - we’ve created a course just for this kind of imperfect joy.
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