You Don't Have To.

A letter to all the overachieving perfectionists out there.

Introduction

Sometimes it’s important to realize that your mental health is more important than pushing yourself to your limits.

To My Lovely Overachieving Perfectionists,

There’s two important things for you to understand about me before we begin. The first is that I’ve ALWAYS been the overachiever.

It may be because I was raised to have a strong work ethic, and I was always anxious to prove myself. It may be that I was raised in a family where working hard and earning what you had was encouraged. It might be just that that’s how I’m wired. But, as I got older, I started to think about my desire to do-it-all in a different light. I started to see it for what it was:

The worry that I wasn’t enough without my achievements.

In high school I took AP classes, lead clubs, and did internships. In college I forced myself into a schedule where I woke at 7:00am and didn’t return to my room until 11:00pm. I mastered opera and gave two full length recitals, I got a Fulbright internship to study abroad in British Columbia, I wrote a senior thesis consisting of 75 pages of original fiction, I went on tour with my choir to Scandinavia, I started thinking about and planning my (hopefully) debut novel, I graduated Summa Cum Laude, and among many other things was …

complete and utter exhaustion.

*

The second thing to understand is that I am inherently stubborn.

If you tell me I can’t do something, but I want to, I’m going to work hard until it’s accomplished. I push my personal limits in everything I do whether it comes down to physical athleticism, how many books I read in a year, how hard I push myself in my studies, I have always felt like it was a drawback in my character if I couldn’t do the things that made me uncomfortable, but also forced me to grow.

I am currently enrolled in an MFA for creative writing (which some of you may know) and this semester I was planning to take British Literature, Literature for Writers, and a workshop called Writing Other Worlds. This is considered a normal course load for my program, but it’s still a lot of work. When I scheduled the classes, I was excited for each of them. I knew I would be learning a lot and I was anxious to hear what we would be reading in my literature courses.

But as the summer months went by, I found myself starting to feel like my feet were sinking into mud. I could hear a ticking clock in the back of my mind that said, “it’s almost here. Oh no, it’s almost here” and I realized that what I was feeling nothing other than dread.

Why?

I’m a good student, I’ve always loved school, and most of the time—while I do have a little bit of nervousness or foreboding—I look forward to the new challenges that will come with continuing my education.

So what was different about this semester?

The Problem

When I came to graduate school, I decided that—for the first time in my life—I would force myself to take it slow. I would spend time on my writing, and focus on resting. I would give myself the space to breathe and I would extend grace when I didn’t want to, or couldn’t, manage another thing.

I’ve managed for the most part to stick to this. I didn’t join seven music groups. Only one. I didn’t join eighteen clubs. Only two. I didn’t overcommit myself. I said no to things I wasn’t sure I could handle with my course-load. I allowed myself to leave some of my assignments incomplete in order to protect the fragile mental stability I was accruing.

So why was I dreading the routine I already knew I could handle?

After many prayer walks, and scribbled journal entries, and conversations with friends, I realized it was because I didn’t want to take British Literature. I read the reading list, and decided somewhere in my subconscious that I didn’t want to read what the teacher had selected.

It’s not that I don’t like Brit. Lit. I love Austen and the Bronte’s and many more authors, and I think those readings are vital for a well-rounded education, but for some reason the thought of reading eight books that weren’t those made me feel like a limp noodle. And this begs the questions. Why was I doing it?

For those of you that aren’t like me, you may be asking, “Well, why didn’t you drop the class sooner then?” The answer is simple, if not a tad embarrassing.

I was too stubborn and simply didn’t know I could.

I know what some of you are thinking, “you’re in grad school and you’ve never heard of an add drop deadline?” I have. It’s just that because of my desire to push myself, to be better, to do it all, I didn’t think it was an option for me. I didn’t realize that I could still work hard, and learn, and grow, without breaking myself over a class I didn’t care about.

The Point

My very dear overachievers, if you made it through to the end of this post, I am here to give you some wisdom that I have learned through pain, and trial, and copious copious errors.

You don’t have to.

You don’t have to take that class that’s stressing you out right now. If it’s a requirement, save it for another semester where the rest of your course load is lighter.

You don’t have to write 3,000 words a day,

or 2,000,

or 500,

(You should probably write at least one though).

You don’t have to break yourself over something that you don’t enjoy.

Yes there’s something to be said for discipline and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and growing your abilities and thoughts. I’m not saying you should allow yourself to stagnate in your personal development. I’m saying that your trajectory doesn’t have to be vertical, or exponential, or even sliding up the graph at a forty-five degree angle. It can be slow, gradual, and inherently less stressful.

All of this to say: CUT YOURSELF SOME SLACK. I know it’s hard. I know you don’t want to because you feel like you’re going to slip into laziness. I know you don’t like that your goals won’t be accomplished as quickly.

But I’m here to tell you that it’s okay to let some things go. It’s okay to give yourself the breaks you need to rest and recuperate. It’s okay because YOU DON’T HAVE TO.

Sincerely,

Evelyn (Queen of the Overachieving Perfectionists)

Conclusion

I don’t know if this is what you needed to hear today, but I hope that it will help you to give yourself some time to adjust to whatever you’re going through and that it will give you the permission you need to be kind to yourself.

Thanks for sticking around to the end and, as always, happy writing.

If you have any thoughts I would love to hear them!