“I want to fight Isaac Newton.”

During my junior year, I said this one too many times. He created the first subject to ever challenge my way of learning. Leading up to AP Calculus, simple memorization seemed to be enough in other STEM classes. Even though I didn’t understand the whole concept, I knew the formulas to a T and always passed with an A. However, I needed to discover a true comprehension of the problems in Calculus that I couldn’t quite find. I pushed and pushed myself to achieve a deeper understanding of the foreign concepts in front of me. But, it never clicked. I am tenacious and stubborn to a fault; and once paired with my perfectionism, I wielded a mighty double-edged sword. On one edge, I faced obstacles in other classes without worry. With a small push, I soared through them. The other edge lodged itself through my heart and soul. There was no room for failure, no room for less than an A; yet, Calculus taunted me with a C.
I studied 3-5 hours a day, shoving down my frustration and self-doubt. But with every hour, I overworked myself to the point that I lost interest in everything. I tried every resource imaginable: the professor’s lectures online left me more confused, and Khan Academy videos filled my head with greater self-doubt. Nothing worked. Each day was a roller-coaster of emotions, a high and low I had no control over. 2nd period, students asked me for help with difficult problems. 3rd period, I begged others for help to no avail. 4th period, I became that star student once again. No matter how much I studied, no matter how much effort I put into the class, I was met with what seemed to be a failure.

My teacher pushed me to have a wellness checkup at our school’s Wellness Center, where I was quickly assigned a therapist who led me through daily sessions. I began to peel back the layers of my mind–each layer revealing a crumbled foundation. My chase for praise and validation led me to be ensnared into a cold robotic shell. I relearned how to be human, to be able to make mistakes without shaming myself for it. Seeing myself for my effort, rather than seeing myself as a letter grade, guided me to not only love my achievements but also myself.

Although I didn’t receive the A I dreamed of for Calculus, I found a newfound love and appreciation for myself. This care and forgiveness of my shortcomings led to me flourishing in other classes. Rather than degrading myself for minor mistakes and slow comprehension, I embraced them. In Advanced Systems of Physiology, I initially struggled to understand the pathways of electrical charges through neurons and their chemical messengers. Old habits tempted me to be immediately critical. Instead, I reapproached the issue, finding more creative ways to understand the problem. I consistently redrew the neuron and the pathway of the electrical charge, making up silly acronyms to remember key details. Approaching myself with grace, in lieu of frustration, led to healthier, and happier milestones in my senior year.