We all want to be the best we can be; for some of you (like me), that bar is high -- not even Wonder Woman would be good enough. For others, mediocrity is great -- as long as you’re getting by, life is good.

No one way is more right than wrong, it comes down to how we’d rather live our lives. But even then, the “what-if’s” and “maybes” still takeover from time to time. We seek out this unattainable perfection based on what we think we need to be rather than what we are.

I am a person who’s always so sure of herself; I live my life day to day, have a good time, and try to learn whatever I can so that the next day is even better. I believe in my capabilities and what I stand for, but when I have a hard week or a major downturn, I find that I always blame myself. The confident demeanor I live by breaks, and every single insecurity comes to light, putting salt on an already open wound.

We are our own biggest critics, and living life so critical of yourself is heartbreaking. There comes a time when you finally have to take a step back and realize what you can do, and do well, and accept what you cannot do, no matter how hard you try.

I have tried for YEARS to be a morning person. You know, the whole skin care routine, stretching before your shower, water with a balanced breakfast and walking into class with mascara already on. I believed my life would be so much better if I could just be a person who tackled their day with the sun rise. Long story short, I’m not. I stay up till 4 am and snooze my six alarms, then get pissed because I’m late and shove a protein bar down my throat and spill my black coffee as I run across campus. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I’ll brush my hair, but that’s as good as it’s going to get.

I so badly want to be a yoga person who meal preps and meditates and uses chemical-free cleaning solutions. Reality check; yoga memberships are expensive, meal prepping takes time away from the 5783429 assignments I’ve procrastinated on, and, as much as it pains me, Lysol is 10 bucks cheaper than Mrs. Meyer’s all-purpose spray.

The valley girl with legs for days and natural blonde hair and a cute laugh rocks. Trust me, I wish I could ride long boards and drink smoothies and wear a bikini without a care in the world. But I’m 5’3” and paint my nails black and wear vans and a t-shirt. Every. Single. Day.

I want to fix everyone and everything. I should be able to help the broken boy and stop global warming and save the whales, but I can’t. I physically, mentally, and emotionally cannot save someone who doesn’t want to be saved or chase off poachers in a jet ski.

Bottom line, I will never like avocado toast or be able to touch my damn toes. I refuse to eat tofu and live off of 80’s rock. I’m not the girl you take home to mom; I curse way too much and spill food on me every time I eat (literally). I’m short and stubborn and sometimes too smart for my own good. But that’s okay, and accepting that this is as good as it gets has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

What I can do, though, is much more than what I am not. I travel the world and meet people every chance I get; I rock the messy hair look and am a pro at tying my shoes while I’m walking down the stairs. I can bake a mean pie, recite Tolstoy, and sing every Bikini Kill song known to man, even if it’s off key. I do what I do the best that anyone can, and, that is better than any alternative out there.