Confessions of A Former Perfectionist

“Your daughter is gifted," the teacher said. I was 5 years old, about to start kindergarten. I briefly stopped yanking at my pigtails and glanced (way, way) up to see my parents beaming at that one particular word: gifted.

Nearly instantly, "gifted" became my label. Throughout elementary school, I'd go to an accelerated class three times a week. By middle school, I spent almost all of my time in my school's "gifted center." Science projects came together with ease, math problems could be decoded in seconds, and my English papers basically wrote themselves. Above average, beyond smart, clever girl: Those were my ABCs growing up.

I got a lot of praise for being smart, and I clung to it like a life vest. It wasn't long before I wanted — no, needed — to be "the smart one" wherever I went.

My performance in school was the main fuel for my confidence, my self-esteem, and even my personality.

Sleepover with my friends? Can't, have to cram for the history final next month. Go for ice cream with the robotics team? No thanks, I'd rather sharpen my skills before the next competition. Hang with my BFF? Well, only if we could quiz each other on our vocab terms...

Flash forward to high school. I no longer was attending one of the top schools in the district; I was attending one of the top schools in the country. And that upped the stakes even more.

My desk space started to fill with piles of notes and coffee rings as I began seeing school not just as a place to learn, but as a place to win.

Win the history fair, win the top grades, win the approval of my teachers and parents. When I didn't succeed, I struggled to navigate the disconnect between the way I thought of myself and my actual performance. "What is wrong with me?" I'd groan anytime I earned less than a perfect score.

The thing about being told you're special and smart from a young age is that you start to associate the two together. Instead of being special “and” smart, I thought I was special because I was smart. FYI: It's not the same.

My feedback loop of perfectionism never seemed to end. The more I'd strive for that success I'd once so easily enjoyed, the more things went wrong — and the more stressed and frustrated I'd become.

The only solution? Try harder for it, I thought. I couldn't give myself a break. And even when I did well or improved, it felt as if I was always coming up short.

Then, toward the end of my freshman year, quarantine hit. As the world was knocked off-kilter, I found myself with more free time than I'd ever had in my entire life — and no idea what to do with it. For the first time ever, I actually did a normal teen thing: I turned to TikTok.

I remember scrolling through my FYP one night when I found the viral audio "can't talk right now, doing sad gifted kid burnout [things]."

Entranced, I must have swiped through every video under the sound about what happens when kids are told they're exceptional at a young age... and the self-defeating behaviors and unrealistic expectations it can lead to later on.

I realized that, for years, I'd been stuck in this unhealthy mindset: Because of my "gifts," I needed to be perfect at anything and everything.

Whenever I tried to pick up a new hobby — from playing guitar to learning how to code — I'd drop it as soon as I realized I wasn't a natural right away. If I couldn't excel at it, why try at all? And forget things like fun and friends. Who has time when every second has to be spent striving to be the smartest?

Stumbling on those sad gifted kid vids was my lightbulb moment. As I discovered on social media (and heard once I opened up to the people around me), “a lot” of us, "gifted" or not, have tumbled into the rabbit hole of feeling that need to be perfect (perfect grades, perfect talents, perfect life — stop me when this sounds familiar).

So does that mean there's something wrong with emphasizing achievement so much? After all, success (in school, sports, clubs, or whatever matters to you) is super important ... right? The answer is: It's complicated. Yes, trying hard and doing your best is important, but an all-out emphasis on winning at everything can be pretty damaging.

Take it from me: The never-ending push to excel can be a fast pass for burnout and low self-esteem. Why? The more you try to be perfect, the more you inevitably fall short because, wait for it, no one is good at everything (duh).

I haven't exactly cracked the code yet, but here's what I do know: Balance is key. Instead of staying hyper-focused on academic goals and achievements, carve out time for mindfulness, whether it's a pump-up playlist, a walk in the park, or saying yes to that hangout with your BFF.

And, no matter what: It's totally normal to experience negative emotions or thoughts from academic pressure. I still find myself stressing about my math grade or exam scores here and there, but I no longer feel like something's wrong with me if I don't "win."

If I'm not a guitar virtuoso or Python master after one day, it doesn't mean I should just give up entirely. We've got so much time to figure everything out and the potential to go far, even if we don't succeed straight away.

And guess what? The word that I had internalized at 5 years old, the one I wrestled and cried and stressed over, is slowly becoming just that: a word.

Acceptance. Balance. Caring for yourself. Now those are much better ABCs to live by, don't you think?