Dear Perfectionism,

You are far from perfect. You tear people down. You make people hate themselves. You’ve somehow managed to convince millions that they must be the best on the team, the strongest in the gym, the smartest in the classroom, or even the best at the job. Maybe if you hadn’t haunted these people with your pervasive need for nothing short of flawlessness, they would finally be able to see that failure is ground zero for improvement.

Although I have many identities, such as student, athlete, and daughter, where you seem to have hurt me the most is as a student. The hours I’ve spent preparing for algebra quizzes, science tests, in-class DBQs, personal reflections, and speaking assessments, have emotionally, physically, and mentally drained me. I miss having the time and energy to walk my dog through my quiet neighborhood. I miss being able to see my bubbly friends on school nights. I am angry because of the toll that you’ve taken on my sleep schedule, my mental health, and my relationships.

Is the ounce of serotonin received from that coveted perfect score worth the gallons of tears that fall on the textbook? Is the split second of pride felt worth the hours of declined facetime calls and missed family dinners? What if mistakes and failures are a crucial part of learning? What if I don’t need the best on the team, the strongest in the gym, or the smartest in the classroom to still be an intelligent, accomplished, interesting, and fun young woman? What if my worth is determined not by how many mistakes I make, but by how I learn from those mistakes? 

Dear Perfectionism, I guess this is goodbye, I won’t miss you.