The Pressure to be Perfect

I felt the pressure to be perfect my entire life. Growing up, this unrealistic expectation squeezed me from all sides. Compressing me into the all-around, all-American girl. A shiny, unattainable gem. Forged in the fires of societal and parental expectation.

My inability to mold myself as easily as an inanimate object created a storm. Grey, heavy clouds constantly hovering over my head. Precipitating drops of doubt. Thundering with voices telling me to aim higher. To be better. Never satisfied.

It brought me to tears in the middle of my first grade classroom. A timed test. The assignment was to fill as much of a blank piece of paper with whatever drawing we wanted. I quickly spiraled. What do you mean I only have twenty minutes to draw this picture? I can’t make it perfect so quickly! And no guidance? Impossible!

The weight of the world on my forty-five pound frame became too much to bear. Folding under the pressure, my head dropped to my desk. This time the rain came from me. I felt like I had so much to prove, and no way to do it. This invisible force had no source at the time. I didn’t know what it was, so I had no way of fighting it.

Middle school brought with it the added weight of academic achievement. There was so much to learn… I swiftly concluded that A’s meant attention. Searching so desperately for praise, I learnt how to curate it in the classroom. My naturally inquisitive nature turned obsessive. I found myself in the Gifted and Talented programs, advanced algebra, and on the math team. It was still not enough.

Tension steeped so quickly, that when appearances became the focus in high school, my sanity boiled over. Bound by the rise of social media, I now had two stages to perform on. But how will I ever compete? The answer involved moving further away from who I was, because who I was did not feel adequate enough.

I completely compressed myself into what I was told a woman should be. I shrunk, because skinny was pretty. I got quiet, since no one likes a bossy lady. I dimmed my light; no one should shine that brightly. While living to please others, I couldn't possibly be me.

I entered college behind a mask. The cheerleader who was studying engineering but somehow always had time for a party. Long blonde hair, because blondes have more fun. Chiseled muscles, as the perfect physique was non-negotiable. It was all topped off with a fake tan, considering my natural skin was so not hot.

It was a face I had learnt to put on for the world. Presenting a never-ending smile, but dealing with an inward, relentless frown. I had spent so long conforming to what others expected of me, I had no clue what I expected of me. Living for someone else is expert level betrayal. Turning your back on your own heart has dire consequences.

I lost myself. I stopped spending my time on pursuits that made me feel joy. All of my focus went to making others happy. Not on how to genuinely be better.. but how to make it appear as such. Nevermind being a more kind human, but rather putting on the show that I was.

Come graduation week, I had no clue who I was or what my next move would be. The festivities blurred. One can only be asked “what are you going to do now?” so many times until the real answer surfaces.

I don’t freakin’ know… but it ain’t this.

I hit my limit. I was twisted and squeezed past the point of return. I snapped. Finally putting a name to the face; the pressure was literally everyone else, except me. Every person, place and thing I’d ever crossed paths with. Leaving it for the world's approval and acceptance, I had abandoned my own inner knowing and peace years ago.

I found it again that summer. Doing the exact opposite of what would be expected… by moving to an island. My first job post-grade, having earned a BS in Bioengineering, was bartending off of the rocky coast of Maine. Meeting and befriending people from all walks of life. Something I had done my entire existence, but only on a surface level.

The old me was friendly because that’s what was expected of a young lady. The new me struck up conversations out of genuine curiosity for the stranger across the table. There was so much to learn! The town was a melting pot of cultures. Everyone brought together by a shared love for quality food, gorgeous views, and a good time.

The endless walking paths etching out the forest were carved by years of use. Telling the tales of thousands upon thousands of people. Strangers treating each other as family, all there for the same thing. Every different kind of human brought together on common ground. Authentically themselves.

Here I learnt to stray from the path when it seemed right. To make my own way if no one had. Marching to the beat of the gradual crescendo of my own heart, I met the real world there. And the real world met me.

I learnt the truth that a self-absorbed teenager could never comprehend; no one actually cares. And if they do, it’s way, way less than we ever think. Everyone in the world is putting on a show. A highlight reel of their lives. We all feel the burden to fit in. To act normal. Carefully carrying out our actions for fear of being judged and ridiculed.

I realized that practically no one noticed any of the insecurities I had. And if they did? It was but a blip in their day, and then right back to their own world. Too busy nit-picking ourselves, we couldn’t possibly put that same effort into someone else. We are all the centers of our own universes.

With the pressure to be perfect no longer closing in on me, I felt a new pep in my step. As blissfully unaware of others' opinions as the lovely Lorelei Lee portrayed by Marilyn Monroe. Accepting nothing but what I truly wanted. Instead of looking forward with dread and to-do lists, I smiled at the future with an unshakable confidence. Knowing I had endless possibilities at my disposal.

If I could survive the entrapment of my own mind, I could get through anything.

I no longer judged books by their covers, because I no longer judged myself. I didn’t need that criticizing, nagging weight to succeed. Losing that fake sense of expectation, I could just live my life. Being myself, a loving and hardworking human, was enough.

My life became my masterpiece to create, and you better believe I decided to go full Picasso. Polishing the fog off of the lens of my life. Buffing away until the true me sparkled through. Making a promise to live for me firstly, the real me. I spent the following few years figuring out, and doing, just that.

I started with winter in Florida. Working on the beach, rescuing a puppy from Puerto Rico, and navigating my first extended stay away from my no-one-ever-leaves hometown. Then I thought I might want year-round city vibes. Enter Raleigh. The artsy, metropolitan hub was a pleasant impression of North Carolina. Their plentiful lakes and parks were lovely, but I now lived by an oath to my heart. It was not a perfect fit for me, so I continued the search. Always returning to my island in Maine for as many of the dogs days as I could.

Leaving that island every fall with false layers stripped, allowed a more authentic-me to shine through. I chopped my long-blonde locks into a chic, little bob. When it started growing out, I dyed the ends a light lavender. Oh, what the heck, go big or go home… that briskly turned into a vibrant violet. In the end, finally settling on growing out my natural brunette. I had always admired how well my eyes matched it.

What do you know? The true me won again.

I had enjoyed the work of my degree, but didn’t know how yet to ethically apply it. Clinical engineering was a start, but I quickly realized I'm too much of a people person. So I tried personal training. I started writing again. Tested my hand at barista-ing. Signed life-coach clients. Learnt how to be an insurance agent… quickly realized I did not want to be said insurance agent. I thought about joining the adult entertainment industry, but even more swiftly realizing that was another trick of my old programming.

I ditched the make up and fake bake for my natural face and a, sometimes sun-kissed sometimes ghostly, glow. I no longer felt that my worth was based upon how I looked. From under the old facade, my natural beauty began to illuminate through. I won’t pretend it was easy, going so against the social media standard. This was a new kind of pressure, however, and it yielded a jewel a million times shinier.

Me.

It was a good few years of buffing and polishing, but now I can start to see my true essence. I am the remarkably real me. The true, authentic version of myself. An outward reflection of my inward heart. The joyful, sweet, inquisitive girl I had hidden away for so long has come back. I feel as though I have just awoken from a dream. A twenty-five year slumber. No longer blurred by others' opinions, but crystal-clear on my own.

I know I am still growing and changing. Who I am today is not the same as a year ago, nor will I be the same in six months. The difference is that I live from a place of authenticity. If I truly don’t think something is for me, I won’t do it. If someone doesn’t like who I am, that’s okay. I don’t shrink myself into a version they will approve of, I simply move on.

I learnt just how effortlessly one can hand the reins of their life over, and how challenging it can be to grab them back.

The more strenuous road is the one that’s true to you. Since I started steering, I’ve ended up in places I could only dream of. My wildest fantasy has turned reality. Learning to ride with, and competing against, the best of the best in the dressage world. Notice how I didn’t mention anything about my favorite equine partners until now? Yeah, the shock is still real.

Waking up to, and walking the path of, my heart’s deepest desires has led me to my lifelong daydream. Showing in sunny Florida. The equestrian capital of the world. With a horse to call my own for the entire winter. Riding every single day and training under the most skilled and knowledgeable women out there. A childhood dream come true.

I won’t pretend it’s not demanding, to live so true to yourself. The pressure still creeps in. My sport is the epitome of perfectionism and control. The only difference is that now I know. Now I am armed with the wisdom that I don’t need to succumb to that force. All I need to do is keep my focus on me. On what I can do every single day to make the world around me a glow brighter.