Year 2: I am enough
I believe in the power of a personal narrative. I believe in finding truth in telling others my story. So I am going to share my story: raw, uncensored, and very vulnerable. Not because I am going for shock value, but because I owe it to myself to be honest.
Year 2 was nothing like year 1 for me. My freshman naivety has been wiped away, and in its place is a healthy sense of the real world and what it means to take responsibility for myself. In one very short and very honest statement, this year has been very hard for me.
I experienced my first break up. I alienated my family and friends in an effort to avoid processing my feelings in a healthy way. I harbored self-hate for my body as symptoms of a condition that I have resurfaced at a very scary and vulnerable time. I started to doubt my career choices and cultivated a fear of the future where I had once been excited. I was diagnosed with panic disorder. And I lost all sense of who I thought I was supposed to be.
To those who know me, it is no secret that I am a perfectionist. A serious type-A kind of gal. I put a lot of pressure on myself to do well and be well, a sentiment that I assume most people have, but this year I went a little overboard.
I wanted the perfect relationship; part one of the trifecta I expected to comprise my perfect life. When my first relationship ended in heartbreak just before school started, I was left very hurt and very confused. I looked at the breakup as a personal failure and blamed myself for not being able to fix it. Personal failures were not to be tolerated in my mind, and so I ignored it. I not once stopped to process my emotions in a healthy way, and instead let feelings of sadness, embarrassment, and pain ferment in the back of my mind. I let these feelings dictate the way I treated myself and other people, and burned a lot of bridges.
I wanted the perfect body; part two of the trifecta. While traveling abroad, symptoms of neurocardiogenic syncope resurfaced after many years. I passed out and constantly felt weak. I hated my body for not working properly and again, blamed myself for not being able to control it. I developed a fear of passing out, and started to have panic attacks in anticipation of losing control of my body. I blamed myself for this fear. I ignored my clearly depleting mental health and neglected taking care of myself because reaching out for help would have shown the world that I was weak.
I wanted the perfect career: the final piece of the trifecta. As a result of my syncope, I started to doubt if my body could handle a mentally and physically demanding career as a doctor. I was scared that I would be seen as weak or unqualified if I would faint when asked to perform a blood draw. I doubted myself and told myself that I could never become a good physician. I developed panic disorder in response to medical environments, and let this condition define my worth as a student and as a person.
When my perfect trifecta came crashing down on me, I felt small. I felt defeated. And I felt like a stranger to myself. I had no idea what I valued anymore. And then I realized: I don't know myself very well. For whatever reason, I have never really taken an interest in Emma-- what Emma likes, why Emma does the things that she does, what Emma wants to be. I have always found self-worth in the eyes of others. I do what I think will make others happy or what others expect of me.
You need a break, right? This has been nothing but depressing and sad so far, and honestly I’m starting to bore myself. Let’s cut to the chase, here: it got better. I forgave myself for a broken relationship and got closure with my ex. I developed a healthy routine that lessens the symptoms of neurocardiogenic syncope and gives me an outlet for self-love rather than self-hate. I enrolled myself in counseling, was diagnosed with panic disorder, and work every day to manage my mental health. In the midst of everything, I survived organic chemistry, went on the trip of a lifetime to South Africa, conducted two of my own research projects, was published in a paper at work, and entered a relationship with my best friend.
The biggest thing I am working on to repair the damage that I did to myself this year is forgiveness. I am learning to forgive myself for not being perfect. I am learning about myself and my values, and making healthy steps towards creating a life that is fulfilling.
I am learning to love myself just the way that I am.
In some ways to entertain you, the reader, and in most ways to do what is best for me, I am going to write myself a letter.
Emma,
Your career does not define who you are. A diagnosis does not define who you are. A relationship does not define who you are. You do.
You don’t need someone else to love you in order to love yourself. Your worth is not determined by how someone sees you. The greatest love you will ever feel is the love you give yourself.
Life is not a linear, upward trajectory. You are going to fail. You are going to disappoint someone. You will not always get it right. And this is okay.
Forgive yourself. You are enough. You will always be enough.
Year 2 was nothing like year 1 for me. My freshman naivety has been wiped away, and in its place is a healthy sense of the real world and what it means to take responsibility for myself. In one very short and very honest statement, this year has been very hard for me.
I experienced my first break up. I alienated my family and friends in an effort to avoid processing my feelings in a healthy way. I harbored self-hate for my body as symptoms of a condition that I have resurfaced at a very scary and vulnerable time. I started to doubt my career choices and cultivated a fear of the future where I had once been excited. I was diagnosed with panic disorder. And I lost all sense of who I thought I was supposed to be.
To those who know me, it is no secret that I am a perfectionist. A serious type-A kind of gal. I put a lot of pressure on myself to do well and be well, a sentiment that I assume most people have, but this year I went a little overboard.
I wanted the perfect relationship; part one of the trifecta I expected to comprise my perfect life. When my first relationship ended in heartbreak just before school started, I was left very hurt and very confused. I looked at the breakup as a personal failure and blamed myself for not being able to fix it. Personal failures were not to be tolerated in my mind, and so I ignored it. I not once stopped to process my emotions in a healthy way, and instead let feelings of sadness, embarrassment, and pain ferment in the back of my mind. I let these feelings dictate the way I treated myself and other people, and burned a lot of bridges.
I wanted the perfect body; part two of the trifecta. While traveling abroad, symptoms of neurocardiogenic syncope resurfaced after many years. I passed out and constantly felt weak. I hated my body for not working properly and again, blamed myself for not being able to control it. I developed a fear of passing out, and started to have panic attacks in anticipation of losing control of my body. I blamed myself for this fear. I ignored my clearly depleting mental health and neglected taking care of myself because reaching out for help would have shown the world that I was weak.
I wanted the perfect career: the final piece of the trifecta. As a result of my syncope, I started to doubt if my body could handle a mentally and physically demanding career as a doctor. I was scared that I would be seen as weak or unqualified if I would faint when asked to perform a blood draw. I doubted myself and told myself that I could never become a good physician. I developed panic disorder in response to medical environments, and let this condition define my worth as a student and as a person.
When my perfect trifecta came crashing down on me, I felt small. I felt defeated. And I felt like a stranger to myself. I had no idea what I valued anymore. And then I realized: I don't know myself very well. For whatever reason, I have never really taken an interest in Emma-- what Emma likes, why Emma does the things that she does, what Emma wants to be. I have always found self-worth in the eyes of others. I do what I think will make others happy or what others expect of me.
You need a break, right? This has been nothing but depressing and sad so far, and honestly I’m starting to bore myself. Let’s cut to the chase, here: it got better. I forgave myself for a broken relationship and got closure with my ex. I developed a healthy routine that lessens the symptoms of neurocardiogenic syncope and gives me an outlet for self-love rather than self-hate. I enrolled myself in counseling, was diagnosed with panic disorder, and work every day to manage my mental health. In the midst of everything, I survived organic chemistry, went on the trip of a lifetime to South Africa, conducted two of my own research projects, was published in a paper at work, and entered a relationship with my best friend.
The biggest thing I am working on to repair the damage that I did to myself this year is forgiveness. I am learning to forgive myself for not being perfect. I am learning about myself and my values, and making healthy steps towards creating a life that is fulfilling.
I am learning to love myself just the way that I am.
In some ways to entertain you, the reader, and in most ways to do what is best for me, I am going to write myself a letter.
Emma,
Your career does not define who you are. A diagnosis does not define who you are. A relationship does not define who you are. You do.
You don’t need someone else to love you in order to love yourself. Your worth is not determined by how someone sees you. The greatest love you will ever feel is the love you give yourself.
Life is not a linear, upward trajectory. You are going to fail. You are going to disappoint someone. You will not always get it right. And this is okay.
Forgive yourself. You are enough. You will always be enough.