By: Ethan Walker – April 30, 2025

There’s this idea of “perfection” that’s been ingrained in me since I was a kid. Growing up, my parents pushed me to be the best—whether it was in school, sports, or any other activity I took on. It wasn’t enough to be good. I had to be the best, the absolute top, or I wasn’t worth their attention.

At first, I thought I was just being motivated. But as I got older, I began to realize that the constant pressure wasn’t about encouragement—it was about control. They needed me to be perfect because they couldn’t accept anything less. Every time I failed, even if it was something small, it felt like I had let them down. And with that came their disappointment, their coldness, their indifference.

In high school, I pushed myself harder. I stayed up late studying, even when I was exhausted. I practiced sports for hours, even when I was injured. But despite all the achievements, I never felt proud of myself. It was never enough. I still felt like I wasn’t good enough, like I was constantly trying to prove myself.

It wasn’t until my first year of college that I hit a breaking point. I couldn’t keep up with the expectations anymore. I burned out. I was depressed, anxious, and completely lost. The pressure had suffocated me, and I couldn’t breathe anymore. I realized I didn’t even know who I was outside of my accomplishments.

I finally had to face the truth: I had spent my whole life chasing perfection for other people, not for myself. And now, I was paying the price. I’m learning to redefine what success means for me—not for anyone else. But it’s hard. I still hear their voices in my head, telling me to do better, to be better. But I’m slowly learning to silence them and listen to my own voice instead.