Those who know me know that I like being in control, neatness, order, and routine. I don't just like those things; I love them to the point that I live and breathe them. Insane, right? What I wanted was to be perfect: aiming for "Dean's List"-worthy grades, excelling at both of my jobs, trying to be a sympathetic sister and loyal daughter, attempting to be social (but failing when I let school take priority), and the list can go on and on. The irony of it all is actually that this whole time, I didn't, couldn't really, believe anyone who told me that I was trying to be perfect. I could always find examples of times when I wasn't.
But a rather surprising notion (insert dry laugh here) that I've recently come to is being perfect or striving to be isn't really living, at least not for me. It came to me just the other day; it was the second day back to classes and I had a meltdown, a full-blown meltdown. The day hadn't started off great; the weather was crappy, all four of my classes were back to back with only 15 minutes to get to each one, and the day increasingly took its toll on my stress level and anxiety. Granted there were other issues at play here, but it overall was my version of a "Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."
With the help of my mentor, I realized I was holding in quite a lot and needed to let everything out. And thus my meltdown. She asked me how many credits I was taking. I said 15. She said, "Melissa, I love you, so I need to be honest with you. Drop a class, you'll still be a full-time student." It made logical sense, but I wanted to keep the class, didn't want to feel like I was letting anybody down, didn't want to feel wimpy or that I couldn't handle the pressure. It was scary; it absolutely terrified me.
"Things aren't going according to the plan. I specifically had this plan and it's not working. Why? I thought it was the perfect plan." This was going through my mind over and over again; in addition, I was trying to find where I went wrong or miscalculated.
"Melissa, drop the class. You will still be full-time. You are enough. You matter." She spoke these words to me among others. The more we talked the more I could feel my body relax and come back to reality.
My lesson here is this: by dropping this class didn't mean that I was letting anybody down or quitting by any means; it simply meant I was choosing to be human instead of perfect.
As I've realized since dropping the class, I made a conscious decision about who I want to be. I want to be human (after all, that's my scientific classification) instead of perfect. By choosing to be human, I am choosing to listen to my body and others who care. I am choosing to set my own pace, not another anyone else's. I am choosing to focus on and celebrate the small victories. I am choosing to redefine the notion of what my successful is and looks like. I am choosing to give up control: the idea of letting go as a route to be healthy.