Dear Young People, Stop Putting So Much Pressure On Yourself

You're Not Coal, Stop Putting So Much Pressure On Yourself To Become A Diamond

I wish that I had lived in the moment and embraced being a kid instead of trying so hard to be a mature adult.


Recently, I have been feeling exponentially overwhelmed. At nineteen, I'm graduating this spring with my bachelor's degree, I have no idea what I'm doing, how I'm going to reach my goals, or where I'm going. Am I going to get a full-time job? Am I going to join the Peace Corps? Am I going to move to Hawaii and live a life completely off the grid, eating mangos, and surfing all day? (I wish)

I have no freaking clue, and I'm sure most of you are feeling the same way.

Growing up, I put a ridiculous amount of pressure on myself. To get straight A's, excel at sports, be part of ASB, get scholarships, and go above and beyond with every task I was given. I wanted to be the perfect student/daughter/sister/friend and this mindset wrecked me. One time, during my junior year of high school, I got a C in a math class that I was struggling with and I was completely DESTROYED. I had never got a grade below an A- before and I beat myself up for weeks because I thought that I was a failure.

I so wish I wouldn't have put all of my self-worth into my grades and my success at sports. I might have actually enjoyed high school and I know without a doubt that I would have been a happier teenager.

I wish that I would have lived in the moment and embraced being a kid instead of trying so hard to be a mature adult.

I'm grateful for my work ethic, but I'm quickly watching myself spiral back into this mental space of feeling like a chicken in a pressure cooker, ready to pop because I want to change the world and I have no damn idea how to do that.

It's good to be a dreamer, but if there's one piece of advice that I could possibly give, it is that I'm figuring out that you have your entire life to accomplish your goals. Just by you being happy, kind, compassionate and living your best life, you will change the world. It's a ripple effect.

You're happy, it makes someone else happy. Their happiness makes someone else happy. Like when someone pays for your drink at Starbucks and you decide to pay it forward.

I recently saw a Rumi quote that read, "Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself." You don't deserve all of the pressure that you are putting on yourself. Embrace the unknown. You have two options, to either be anxious or to be excited. Choose excitement.

You will accomplish great things.

You're already a diamond.

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Stop Stopping At Stop Signs, It's Honestly Not Helping Anyone

I swear Vin Diesel didn't pay me to write this, because if he did, I wouldn't be driving a 1998 Volvo.


Okay, so I get it, you should be safe on the road, you should follow all the rules, you should avoid breaking traffic laws, blah blah blah... I get it.

But at the same time, I gotta get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs at Target before they close in seven minutes, and the soccer mom in the minivan ahead of me ain't helping. I understand that a stop sign means to come to a full stop in the eyes of the law, but I also understand that it is 10:53 at night in the middle of nowhere. A stop sign, especially this late, just means slow down.

Okay, I don't want to sound like Vin Diesel, but like, damn Debby, can you not stop for a full five seconds? And I'm not talking a quick 1-2-3-4-5, I'm talking about five Mississippis. Maybe me and the middle-aged soccer mom are at two ends of the spectrum here, she's too cautious and I'm too "Fast and Furious," but boy, I sure was furious, because Debby, it's time to stop your excessive stopping.

Another one of my favorites was a real turn of events. I was stuck behind a Camaro and a Mustang at a red light, and the two of them were revving their engines, and I thought to myself, "Oh God, we're gonna have a NASCAR race going on right on Nicolls Road." And for a solid three minutes before the light turned, these two meatheads were revving their engines.

Then the light turned green and both cars slowly started accelerating and took a solid couple minutes before they got to 60 miles an hour. If you are driving in a sports car where you can see 200 on the speedometer, it should not take you three minutes to get to 60. If an 18-year-old in a piece of shit 1998 Volvo can pass a sports car, you're going too slow.

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