College Admissions Essay: Why I Have To Be Perfect

You get what you give. This is more than a line from a song that has been stuck in my head constantly, but a lesson I have learned throughout my life so far. One of the earliest recollection I have from this, was when I was a twelve year old.

One of the most pivotal lessons of my life, and one that every student needs to learn, is that being perfect is not everything. Perfectionism paralyzed me in school as I focused only on getting the faultless test score or writing nonpareil papers. Depression, due to not surpassing my own expectations, took hold of me, controlling my life for two years, forcing me out of school and into treatment. I had to fight arduously against the forces in my own mind to be able to accept who I am, all flaws included. Now that I have overcome, I wish to share my experiences with others who struggle much like

For seventeen years, I have dutifully fulfilled my role as the Asian stereotype. From a young age, I was instilled with the belief that happiness was procured through achievement and success. Rigidity and structure dictated my every action, and as I grew older, the pressure to distinguish myself from my peers intensified. I felt as though my entire life was pre-determined. And as my disillusionment grew, I became conscious of a startling emptiness. I began to crave a greater purpose.

I love the idea of striving for perfection when I can never be perfect; it has always fascinated me. As Martha Graham once said, “Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion.” Since my first ballet class when I was four, I have been in love with ballet. Since then, God has shown me so much through my vibrant passion for dance. He has blessed me with a gift and has also blessed me with an amazing ballet school.

I was born on September the 7th of 1994 in the San Francisco Bay area, not very far from Silicon Valley. The year I was born President Bill Clinton signed the North American Free Trade agreement with Mexico and Canada which helped to stimulate economic growth about twenty years ago. Living in California made my Dad the open-minded liberal that he is today, and because of his love for discussing politics I was raised listening to him have friendly debates with my very republican grandpa over every economic issue from climate change to healthcare. For about a year and a half after I was born my parents, older brother Daniel, golden retriever sandy, and I all lived in a classic colonial style home just south of Santa Clara Valley. My father was the breadwinner in our family working as an engineer for Portola Packaging. A job he was offered not long after graduation from a small private engineering school in upstate New York called Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. My mother also worked full time but as a loan underwriter. After being offered a great relocation package by Portola to the east coast my parents quickly decided to pack up our house and move to Pittsburg Pennsylvania. In addition to being closer to our extended families they also believed that raising a family in Pennsylvania was far

Is this damn thing recording or am I talking to myself. Piece of junk, you never know if or when a solar flare is going to erupt and knock out the whole flipping system. Well, let me start by asking, have you ever had one of those days that if it could go wrong, it did? That seems to be how life here is going lately. GOD, if I can only hold out for two more months, I will be home free. My team landed here on August 9, 2304 and has been stationed on this red dusty rock for the better part of three years and my tour is almost up. Any day now I should be getting my new orders and so help me, if I don’t get my first or second choice of duty stations, I just might end up shooting someone. Let me try to clear things up so you will understand just

My past, present, and future. This is the journey of my life. Where I’ve been, where I’m at, and where I’m going. My journey began on July 28, 2000, at St. Margret’s South Hospital in Dyer, Indiana. Lance Collins who is a paramedic, and Christine Collins who is a registered nurse, became the proud parents of the 6lb. 9oz. 21 inch long baby boy, who they named Liam Hunter Collins. On November 30, 2002, I became a big brother when my sister Taylor Collins was born. I have been a lifelong resident of Northwest Indiana and I’ve had some pretty amazing adventures and accomplishments so far. I became a proud pet owner when my bichon frise Max, came to live with us on April 5th, 2006. On June 30, 2006 my dad took me to my very first Taekwondo lesson. I quickly fell in love with martial arts, I worked really hard, dedicated myself, and I received the rank of 1st degree black belt when I was only eight years old. I have been playing

This forced me analyze my life thus far, to recognize my fears and what I hold dear. It’s only been sixteen (one month till seventeen) years in this carcass, but I already feel like an entire life has flown by. It was like a prerequisite of actually watching my life flash before my eyes. This project was nice to sit back and look at what a social mess I am (one of my most favorite pastimes). But also, only being sixteen, I don’t hold what many would believe to be true values, dreams, fears, and identity. Nevertheless, this is what I have so far.

Creating an image of perfection in society is exhausting and can cause us to lose

My expectation of perfection for myself was shattered in 7th grade when I received my first C on a test. My perfectionist label mostly applied to school for me. I have always been the “perfect” student, which often causes me to also receive the “smart” label. People often misjudged me because of my “perfectionist” and “smart” labels. People generally looked at me and thought all my “perfection” and “smartness” just came naturally, and they often overlooked how hard I worked to live up to those labels. Despite these labels often causing me to be misjudged, I let them define who I was

My life is run by alignment and perfection. Aligning everything on my desk, aligning everything on my computer, aligning everything in my backpack. Perfection in my work, perfection of my personal items, perfection of workout reps at the gym. Alignment and perfection is everything. I can’t stop help it, I just need to perfect and align all of my things. This habit of keeping things organized is so that I can focus on the important things. However, is it more than just a habit? More than a obsession? Is it an addiction to be constantly organized? Yes. I need to have everything aligned to the pixel, to the centimeter, or I can’t let it be. Whether it be using an arrow key or barely tapping the object to get it in line, it must be perfect. Perfection is necessary, perfection is everything, perfection is absolute.

What you see is not always what it is. We learn to perceive what we're looking at, and we get used to how things are supposed to be. I was always fascinated by the illusion pictures that at first glance is strikingly simple to guess what it is, if you give more attention to detail you see another picture in it. What inspired me the most and made me a curious person was how missing one detail can change the whole outlook of the picture – just as missing one aspect from patient’s evaluation can lead to a wrong diagnosis. This taught me the importance of thoroughness in doing anything in my life. My meticulous nature has been an incredible driving force behind who I am

The city of New York is where I reside, mostly when I'm not flying around the world in my elegant, exclusive, exorbitant jet; I'd always mention with a wink. I'm living the dream. Waking up to the warmth of the sun as my alarm, the view of the alluring country from my apartment and Mr. Awares, my butler the man who dresses me... haha okay, I’m not that lazy. Where do I see myself 10 years from where I stand now? A question I could never answer until 10:03pm or was it 10:05pm? Well, who knows, I fell asleep.

If you asked the younger version of myself what failure was it would have included not earning straight A’s or not turning in my homework on time. Little did I know, the meaning of failure is not always as innocent as those days on the playground. The moment I entered junior year, I knew I discovered the world was filled with more diverse forms of what failure meant.

Comparison will steal your joy. Right now, I see many traits in you that I see in myself. Perfectionism is something I see in both of us. I used to think these traits could be a great tool when you work, but then I read The Gifts of Imperfection by Brene Brown and she stated, “Perfectionism is self-destructive simply because there is no such thing as perfect. Perfection is an unattainable goal” (pg. 57). Bug-a-boo, I know this isn’t something that you want to hear, but she is right. There is no such thing as being perfect. As I see you struggle as a nine-year-old to perfectly read that chapter book or make all of the kids like you at school, I just want to hug you and tell you that you are and always have been enough. I once heard in a song, “You’ll always measure up if you compare yourself to you”. You are the only person you need to focus on. I don’t mean the ideal “perfect daughter, sister, friend, student” portrait you try to paint yourself to be. I’m talking about the beautiful girl who loves to dance down the hallway, the girl who leaves her school work scattered around the house, the girl who struggles, the girl who is human. Additionally, keep in mind, comparing yourself to others robs you of the potential YOU were given. And trust me, that potential is