Charlotte Sidebotham is a salaried GP from Cornwall
I am a GP and a mother of four. By temperament, I am a perfectionist. By necessity, I am no longer allowed to be.
Before children, perfectionism felt like a professional asset. I double-checked results, crafted careful plans, prided myself on running to time. Then came four small children who (naturally) lose shoes daily, generate geological layers of laundry, and consider mud a legitimate skincare product. Perfection did not merely slip; it became irrelevant.
General practice has much in common with a busy kitchen at 6 pm. Competing needs. Rising noise levels. Someone always waiting. In both spaces, I am required to prioritise — not everything can be addressed at once, and not everything can be made neat.
As a young doctor, I thought good care meant having the right answer. As a new mother, I thought good parenting meant anticipating every need. Both assumptions were quietly dismantled by experience.
The psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott wrote about the “good enough mother” — not perfect, not endlessly responsive, but sufficiently attuned. A mother who inevitably gets it wrong sometimes, and in doing so allows her child to develop resilience and a sense of self. The goal is not flawless provision, but reliable presence.1
I have come to think there is such a thing as the good enough GP.2
We will miss the occasional diagnosis at first pass. We will run late. We will not solve social inequality in a 10-minute consultation. We will safety-net, review, apologise, and try again. Our patients do not need omniscience; they need steadiness. They need to feel held within a system that is thoughtful and safe, even when it is stretched.
My boys have taught me that scraped knees are survivable, that boredom breeds creativity, and that a forgotten PE kit is not a safeguarding concern. They have also taught me that love is not measured in organic meals or tidy bedrooms, but in showing up — repeatedly, imperfectly.
Perfectionism promises control. “Good enough” requires humility.
In medicine, as in motherhood, the pursuit of perfect can eclipse the practice of present. When I accept that I cannot optimise every outcome — at home or in clinic — I am freer to focus on what matters: listening well, offering containment, and being reliably there.
Good enough is not lowering the bar. It is recognising that in messy, human work, excellence often looks ordinary.
And ordinary, done consistently with care, is enough.
References
- Sidebotham C. Good enough is good enough! Br J Gen Pract. 2017 Jul;67(660):311. doi: 10.3399/bjgp17X691409. PMID: 28663420; PMCID: PMC5565862.
- Winnicott DW. Transitional objects and transitional phenomena: a study of the first not-me possession. Int J Psychoanal 1953; 34(2):89–97.
Featured image by Vlad Tchompalov on Unsplash
