For as long as I can remember, I’ve tried to achieve academic perfection. And for as long as I can remember, I have failed to reach that goal. As a senior in college, I’ve officially decided that I’m tired of draining myself to get to a place that doesn’t exist for me.
Last year, I hit rock bottom in my academic career. I passed all my classes, and I nearly got straight A’s, but school made me feel the smallest and lowest I have ever felt. I was disappointed in myself for my grades and my GPA.
Every year at the end of summer, I had to intentionally be aware of the change in my quality of life that was coming with school starting. I knew I’d have to start preparing to sleep and eat less and hate myself more.
Since I was a junior in high school, I always wondered why I needed to work so hard to average a B. I’ve brought myself down so many times because I have never had a 4.0 and I never will. I always answer the question, “what do you want to get out of this class?” with the no brainer, “an A.”
As this is my last year, I would like to reframe my perspective. I don’t need an A. I don’t need to strive for a perfect GPA. And I don’t want to anymore.
I want to graduate knowing my best was enough. I want to learn more this year than ever before and I want to know that I made sure to spend valuable time with my friends because we’ll never be 21-year-olds together in college ever again.
I want to take it all in and remember every moment this year aside from struggling in school and feeling bad about it. I will not be letting school hold me back from going out with my friends or watching a movie at night instead of writing a paper. I want to live for myself and not for my grades. I want to be present.
Since I’m so close to no longer identifying as a student, I’ve never been more aware of the fact that I need to get a life outside of school. It’s a difficult task to unlearn these practices I’ve known since I was a little girl, but I owe it to myself.
Academic perfection is a lie. It’s setting yourself up for failure because you’ll never achieve it. I believe I wanted to reach it more than anything. It was the accomplishment. But what does a 4.0 GPA give a middle-aged college graduate to brag about? Nothing.
To me, a perfect GPA meant that I was smart. It meant that I’d get a good-paying job that I loved. It meant that I mattered, and everyone knew it. But I’ve been wrong this entire time. A perfect GPA doesn’t mean a thing. That number expires the day I graduate. That number has never been relevant to me.
This doesn’t mean I’m going to give up on school. I want to learn, nonetheless. I’m not hoping for lower grades, but I’m not going to beat myself up over getting a B anymore. I’m letting go little by little, and I’m not letting my grades define my intelligence anymore.
A word of advice, being perfect isn’t a real goal. The sooner you learn that there should be a balance, the better.
So, I stand here today with only seven months, one week, six days and 20 hours to learn how to stop striving for what has been my number one goal for the better part of my life, and to get a damn hobby. But who’s counting?