on reclaiming your own agency

“Being perfect is boring, failing is fun.”  I’ve been reflecting on that phrase my roommate shared with me a few nights ago.  I had opened up quite a bit about my struggles with managing academic responsibilities with the expectations of my parents, in addition to whatever standards I have set for myself.  Unfortunately, “perfection,” or something close to it, is the end goal I’ve been conditioned to pursue throughout my academic career.  This has been farther compounded by the fact that I earned the title of the smart kid out of my four siblings (I even got the nickname “professor” for at least a year and a half).  Pair this with constantly having others comment on the excellence of your family and siblings, and now I’m not just chasing after perfection for my own sake, but to uphold my family name.   

untitled thoughts

steven universe drifts away into a canopy of yellow stars and a pink and blue sky

Lately, I’ve been realizing just how challenging it is to recognize my own harmful habits and ways of thinking, interrupt them, and embark on a healing process.  Although something like this has happened several times in the past, it only took a few deadlines and assignments to launch me into a spiral of over-analysis, self-criticism, anxiety, avoidance, and distraction.  All the while, I felt powerless to stop this process, and I really hate that!  

You see, what I had been struggling with up to that point was a couple papers, a presentation, replying to emails, doing weekly readings and assignments; all pretty mundane tasks, but ones that can feel like mountains with impossible summits some weeks.  Even so, as I start to slip and fall behind, one part of my brain reassures myself that I’ll catch up on everything “over the weekend,” no problem, without the need to ask for help or communicate in any way.  Another part is already recognizing the warning signs, pointing out my flaws, and criticizing myself on where I need to do better.  The most destructive side deals with all this noise by shutting down completely. Sleeping in until 3pm, skipping meals and classes, being anxious to leave my room, neglecting self-care, and raking up my screen-time on Genshin to do nothing but avoid, avoid, avoid, avoid has indicated there is a bit more than academic stress below the surface.   

The Unspoken Truth about Working Out

Growing up as an Asian American, I always had a fast metabolism and never weighed above 100 pounds. No matter how much I tried to eat, I could never gain the weight. If I lost any weight for any reason, it was hard to gain it back. Medical professionals would tell me that I needed to “eat a cheeseburger” because my weight was not considered ‘healthy.’ I was not allowed to donate blood because I did not reach the weight minimum. I was tired of being told how ‘weak and small’ I looked, envying anyone with more noticeable curves or physical strength. I refused to take pictures for months, archiving my entire feed on Instagram and hiding my body as much as I could. I was sick of the body I was in. So in 2019, I began to research ways I can transform the way I look as quickly as possible. 

Exposed (TW: OCD, Perfectionism, Bugs)

If anything has debunked the mind-body split for me, it’s living with OCD. My obsessions are felt as deeply as they are thought. Every day I physically feel my compulsions begging for my submission. In resisting them, my body is flooded with a deep, gnawing unrest.

The normalization of perfectionism convinced me that my OCD was good for me. I looked good on paper – but I see no paper in my skin, my blood, my brain, my bones. I have learned that to save this body, I cannot give everything my best. “Just right” can never be achieved so long as I am the judge. The goalpost moves too quickly to register.