I’ve written at least four versions of this intro, each one no better than the last. At this point, I don’t know what to say. 

“Everything has to be perfect,” I said to my classmate sitting next to me. “Every piece I write is published and submitted for a grade. How am I supposed to write something that appeals to everyone and accurately reflects my opinion perfectly?”

My classmate looked at me and said that I should just write exactly how it comes to me. 

I like to describe my writing process as a ball of yarn that, in order to write something great, needs to be carefully unraveled and laid out in just the right way in order to feel okay with what I put on paper. 

I’ve been described by people I know as a perfectionist – someone who wants everything to be just right – and I agree with that. But it isn’t as easy as it seems.

It feels like I’m stuck in a place in my mind where every single little word is a reflection of myself: the way I think, the way I act, the kind of person I am. I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but it does get lonely when you feel like everyone is moving so fast and rushing to publish pieces when I’m automatically set back and overanalyzing each sentence like I’m reading over my will. 

A person can’t just decide one day to become a perfectionist. It takes years and years of training your brain and a preset of personal (or outside) standards.

Though that has been my experience, it isn’t the case in all aspects of my life. My schoolwork is perfectly color-coded, organized by subject, and everything is in order. When I go home, the pillows off my bed are on the floor, my clothes are in a giant pile, and my vanity holds all my makeup fallen on its side out of the organizer. I have no plans on cleaning it any time soon. 

I’ve always liked the idea that your room is an accurate reflection of your mind and thoughts. My room, along with my writing, are the same in the ways that they are a representation of the way my brain works. Like I said before, I’m extremely jealous of those who can just throw things together and be okay with it. For me, it just isn’t enough.

But there is one thing though: My perfectionism prevents me from getting anything done at all. There is so much time spent solely on making sure my pen is the right diameter, my handwriting is just right, and that what I’m putting down on the page flows together. Oftentimes it leaves me in a mess of papers scattered all over the floor. 

So is this obsession with being perfect in all things academic helping me or hurting me? That’s a question I can’t seem to answer. I’m sure that in some cases it really compels people to succeed, though in my case it’s just the opposite. 

Through a lot of work, I know that I can fix my issue. I could learn to be okay and live with my academic performance being rather average, rather than exemplary and outstanding. 

I guess my whole bit of rambling shows that I did know what to say. Maybe it isn’t as bad as I thought. 

This is the opinion of Sophia Lingley, a senior reporter for the Chief Advocate.