I'm Not Perfect
In the last year, this has been one of the most powerful things that I have realized. That I am not perfect.
I was never a perfectionist either. Nor had I ever been a bad person, failed a class, been a "problem child", overweight, or anything. Yes, I had trouble with grades or whatever, but had my parents taken a second to realize what was going on, maybe they would have relaxed their standards. I don't blame them for anything that's happened; it's not their fault. But, because of the pressures put on me, I did expect myself to be perfect, even though I knew that it was impossible.
Like I said, I was never overweight, but I had always had a little bit of baby fat left on me. When I began to lose weight, I was excited. All I had done was hit the gym once a week and magically dropped 10 pounds in a semester. I couldn't believe how easy it was. The next fall, I was put on ADHD mdication, and began to lose weight like crazy. In 6 months, I had lost an additional 15-16 pounds. Because I am short, the change in weight was very noticable, but I looked great. The problem was though, I began to expect perfection from myself. I would often skip breakfast, eat a bag of chips for lunch (if that) for lunch, and then maybe half of what could be considered dinner. I figured that I didn't need to eat, and if I didn't need to, then why should I?
My new habits after the medication didn't stop there. Both of my parents are smart successful people, so they couldn't understand why I wasn't acing school. Once my parents finally let me get medication, I thought I would be getting straight A's. The first semester I was on them I ended up with a 3.1 GPA. Not bad, but nothing great. I constantly beat myself up over it. Telling myself I was stupid and worthless. I mean, I certainly didn't feel good enough for my family. I felt I had no excuse for not being who everyone expected me to be, and even who I expected me to be. I wanted to be better, I wanted acceptance.
I didn't stop here, either. I began to tell myself that I was ugly too. It wasn't to motivate me or anything, it was really just what I thought. I would look in the mirror every morning and automatically tell myself without even considering it, "Why am I the ugliest human being in the world?". I never had had the highest self esteem, but this was a new low. All the little things I had been telling myself started to get to me. I wanted to be thinner, prettier, smarter, better. I demanded it from myself everyday, telling myself that I wasn't good enough.
I can't exactly pinpoint the moment I realized what I was doing to myself. But when I did, it really hit me. It's okay not to be perfect, and it's okay to mess up or to be average. I am not my parents, and I am who I am. Not who they raised me to be. I try hard, I'm a good kid, and I'm honest. I'll be fine. I can't do or be everything everyone, including myself, wants me to be. I'm me, and that will be good enough for now.