Perfect Student

I could have prevented being there.  The air was bleak and the sheets reminded me I was so far away from home.

I could have prevented being there hooked up to this machine that buzzed and beeped every time I blinked my eyes. All around me people were whaling for the loss of their loved ones while I curled up like a fist counting my breaths as if losing count meant losing myself.   Surprisingly enough I had already lost myself far before that night. I laid in the hospital bed and fought with every muscle I had to grasp reality and regain who I was but I dropped weak on my knees.  When people are admitted into the hospital they way I was they put you on a psychiatric hold. They ask you questions like “Do you feel like hurting yourself?” “How’s your home life?”. What they don’t ask is, “Why do you think you’re here?” I could have told them, personal essays and resumes. Easy answer. Long ago, before personal essay prompts and ten activity slots in the Common App convinced me to change my ways, I had a healthy life. I had hobbies that filled my evenings and poetry books that helped me sleep at night.  I had career goals that excited me and passions that kept my imagination running at all hours. I had a job and classwork too, of course but I also found joy in assignments and yes even joy in making Lucy’s caramel macchiatos at Starbucks in the morning. However during the application process, I had a dim self realization I was self-sabotaging slacker. I became my own worst enemy by not being a superhuman. Having a 3.5 GPA and being semi-involved wasn’t enough.I couldn’t answer the essay prompts “How are you going to change the world and how does our university help you do so?” and  “Are you already changing the world? Tell us how and link us to your Instagram and Twitter!”   What?! I sat staring at my laptop and asked the questions to myself about one hundred times. It became less about being me and more about looking like a rockstar.

What?! I sat staring at my laptop and asked the questions to myself about one hundred times. It became less about being me and more about looking like a rockstar. I thought about not changing, I thought about writing about how they should accept me for being me but I couldn’t risk it. I am the first person in my family to go to college I have to transfer or else I wouldn’t make anyone proud. I had to change who I was because I wasn’t good enough. I resolved to do better. I started stepping up in student government. “I’ll handle the flyers and events for sex week,” I said nonchalantly, knowing that it would be harder than it sounded. “I’ll have those both outlined and ready to go on your desk tomorrow morning!” I took on more responsibilities than I could handle, I triple booked myself for meetings and classes and found my hand shooting up into the air with every new task offered to our team. I accepted every request from board members and advisors. I promised to to fulfill every single one of their wants regardless of what I went through. I stepped up in other aspects of my life, too. I started being the first call when someone needed a shift covered, pushing myself harder at work to get a promotion and started applying to new jobs. I became a London study abroad ambassador for the American Institute of Foreign Study’s program on campus. I became a direct mentor for the Public Relations Commissioner of Inter-Club Council. I founded and edited a podcast for one of my professors. Though I’m not even going into the medical field I landed a summer internship with a surgeon and tried to be a great big sister by volunteering in my sibling’s classrooms. Just as I thought, the rewards of being and doing so much became evident. I became confident and developed a sense of charm that I wrote into my personal essays. I started to feel a sense of popularity too. I noticed the new respect my peers had for me. They came to me for advice. My fellow board members included on proposals and my opinion was treated as gold. Naturally, I leaned in some more selfishly needed recommendations and bragging rights for my applications. I started to work out between classes and even made important telephone calls during my morning commute. I stopped drinking tea and reading poetry before bed, something I had looked forward to everyday.

I put in extra hours at work. When I came home, homework was the last of my worries. But I never did anything to my full potential. I couldn’t. I was too busy to give anything my all. I pushed passed my breaking point and that’s when I landed in the hospital. That’s what it took to realize that striving to look perfect was ridiculous. I was miserable. I never cared for friends, because I was too busy building my imaginary empire
of popularity. My boyfriend would go days without hearing from me and I was
too tired to do any creative, outside-the-box thinking. I was too boxed in with my checklists and heavy work flow to realize I was neglecting the important things. I had gave in to to what seemed like better application headlines. I dropped activities I was passionate about like cheer, journalism, and film because they become redundant and I needed new and more. It made me wonder if I should just give up, move to London and start a flower business. I bet those colleges would like to see flowers when they clicked my account. After my partial breakdown, I came to a bold new conclusion. If I want to be as happy as applications made me out to be, I need to be passionate and stop striving to seem perfect. As important as it is to get involved and show employers and schools that you do as much as you can, it is more important to show them you’re passionate about something and you will work to complete those things. Even though all these words seemed like glitter and gold on a piece of paper, I felt empty. The words didn’t show who I was other than a paper cut out of college’s expectations of a perfect person. I thought about the questions again. How is Destiny Dominguez changing the world? Well, I’m not. I am learning to be happy and proud of the things I enjoy. I have totally changed the prompts from fluff needing answers to real, honest, and passionate answers. While I am still trying to figure it out, I am going to go somewhere and do something that makes my eyes light up and where I have no problem working hard. This isn’t me backing away from all my responsibilities completely. This is me caring enough for each and everything just as much. Whatever I end up, I will continue this mentality: Don’t strive to be perfect, just be happy.