High school has been a transitional time for me, and as cliche as it sounds, I believe it has been for everyone here in this room, in one way or another. I want to thank my teachers, including my parents, my sister, my peers and the people who have taught classes here because when it comes down to it, we are all here teaching each other constantly. Not just between bells, but always, and for that, I am eternally grateful. For all of you.

I spent my elementary school days like many of us did, writing books that would certainly make me a famous author, watercoloring and exploring. Home schooling allowed me to follow my passion, travel and learn from experiences that I will remember for my entire life.

I’ve spent more nights of my life sleeping under the stars next to a volkswagon van than I have sleeping inside. And while most of those nights were followed by cold mornings or waking up to a raccoon-ravaged campsite, they were preciously imperfect.

I joined the Wolfpack at the beginning of my Junior year. Ms. Heimer greeted me by name at her door, and I was, of course, in awe.

It was about a year since I had begun my recovery from an eating disorder and probably three since I had written anything more than a journal entry here or there. All of the sudden someone was encouraging me, teaching me, and most importantly, telling me that I was allowed, even encouraged, to fail. Not to fail on purpose, but to let myself be imperfect, to criticize with the intent of rebuilding, rather than destroying.
At some point, she told us to write about whatever it was that was begging to be written about. Of course for me, that was my tireless obsession with perfection and my dangerous pursuit of it.

It was terrifying, reading a piece of myself that was so private and flawed to this group of strangers and old acquaintances. I had hardly told anyone about what I was going through, and all of the sudden there it was, being discussed by an entire classroom of my peers. But I learned something that day that I can’t quite put to words.
I learned that sharing something unfinished, something so far from perfect, could take that desperate need to achieve perfection and turn it into a willingness to try for better rather than the best. In the words of Heimer, “Fail. Fail again. Fail better.” 
And I did. I rewrote and designed that essay, it was published months later in a magazine, even though it could never be perfect. And somehow, I was humbled.

Somewhere along the way, I also had a moment of realization. That people, no matter how happy, or beautiful or care-free, all had some sort of problem. Something that made them sad, or that left them feeling alone in the world. Looking back on it now, I can’t imagine how I didn’t know that before, but I know now that perfection has absolutely no form.

It isn’t always easy, but it is advantageous to remember. As Salvador Dali said, “Have no fear of perfection, you’ll never reach it.”

As we all look forward to this future that we face, we find ourselves supplied heavily with everyone’s advice.
We have parents, family, teachers, an endless pool of people that seem to know what might be best for us to do. And underneath it all, it’s a pressure. They want us to be happy, which ends up sounding like they want success, and it is almost impossible to separate success from perfection. In fact, many well known and respected people have spoken about the flaws of our perception of perfectness. Tolstoy says “If you look for perfection, you will never be content.” and I believe that we would all do well to keep that in mind as we head out on our own.
We are all different people, we will all fail at different times, but it is inevitable that none of us will ever be perfect. And instead of scaring or demoralizing you, let that be the source of your freedom.

Just the other day, Heimer said that the word “perfect” never used to mean flawless. It meant “complete”, so I stand here today telling you to live your life to it’s absolute fullest. Full of flaws, full of laughter, full of love and happiness. Remember that you are complete, and therefore the most perfect you can be is the way you are now and the person you will grow to be. Learn from your mistakes as if they were curves in your path, and don’t ever be afraid to stumble.