I used to be a part of a monthly blog hop called the "Insecure Writer's Group" but I'd been letting that slide. I valued that experience so I'm "hopping" back in. One of the things I've found most valuable over the years is the way in which my writing lessons have connected to life lessons. Learning a new skill has given me so much perspective on everything else I've already learned, and I'll carry on that perspective today.
Aspiring writers are told to be voracious readers. Agents, editors, and fellow writers insist that reading improves writing—makes sense, right? It gives authors an understanding of market and genre, helps them notice concepts of voice and story development which may either subtly or directly influence one's own writing.
Potentially, reading also changes perspective about your own writing. One of the things that happens when you read a lot is that you don't like every book. You might even hate some. It's possible you'll even despite a book that everyone in the world things is the best thing ever written. You might really enjoy a book or an author who "serious" critics say is too formulaic or sophomoric (or YA or fanfic or "trashy" novels).
The point is, we all have different expectations and different preferences, right? As a writer, it lets me off the hook a bit. Perfection is relative ... to what? Good is relative to what? Now, that doesn't mean I advocate writing crap, but it's a good reminder.
As a public speaking teacher, I constantly tell my students that good speaking isn't one-size-fits-all. It's about being an authentic communicator, about your ethos. You need to be the best YOU possible even if you have some delivery flubs and or your voice is high-pitched. It may be what audiences most like about you.
The same goes for writing, it goes for your job and your relationships and your art and your music and your bathroom remodel and everything else under the sun. The more variety you experience, the more you're able to find yourself in the process.
Your imperfections are an important part of your voice.