My Life Playbook - Embrace Imperfection

I got a 2.8 GPA in my first semester of college. Yeah, you heard that right. Am I proud of it? No. However, I do know what I’ve gained from that semester is worth more than the number I saw on my transcript.?

Coming into school, I was incredibly nervous. Like all freshmen, I was getting thrown into an environment so foreign to me with the addition of playing for one of the best tennis programs in the country. If I haven’t mentioned it already, I started homeschooling for tennis in 5th grade. It was supposed to be a test before I hit middle school for my parents to see if I was disciplined to stay on top of it on my own. They told me that if I ever got behind, the tennis had to stop. So I took that to heart, never got behind, and basically ended up homeschooling until I graduated except for a few classes here and there to be able to play basketball for the high school. Other than that, I was a fully online student, who hadn’t been in front of a teacher in years. Knowing this, made me incredibly nervous for my first semester.

My schedule consisted of Econ 101, Spanish 105, Math 110, and Sociology 101. Can you tell I got screwed during registration? For me, the combination of Math, Spanish and Econ was probably the worst idea ever. I kept trying to convince myself I’d be fine during the days leading up to FDOC, but who was I kidding? Nobody in the right mind takes those three classes here in the same semester, let alone their first one. I know for sure a homeschooled kid who played tennis longer than she was in school at least shouldn’t be.?

I was excited to be back in front of a teacher until the second week of class, where Econ sounded like a foreign language, and Math was using a few too many letters for my liking. I knew I was in for it, but I kept chugging along. In my first few tennis practices, every ball felt like it was going by me 10 times faster than what I was used to, and I was gasping for air more than I ever had during practice. I was living with people I had just met, and the days felt like years. Between class and practice, I’d nap for an hour or two to try and make up for the sleep I missed the night before from staying up late to do homework. It was exhausting.?

I weathered the storm through countless freshman illnesses until it was time for midterms. This is when it went downhill fast. I had never gotten a B on a report card before. I wasn’t used to studying. I didn’t even know how to and was too scared to ask for help. I wanted to try and do it on my own. My first econ exam came back, and I got a D+. I immediately burst into tears and called my mom, crying to her about the worst grade I’d ever gotten. She encouraged me and recommended I go ask for a tutor. A few days later I got my math midterm back. I got a similar grade. The pit in my stomach just grew and grew and grew. I thought to myself, “Am I really this stupid? I’m trying so hard and this is all I’m getting out of it.”

Luckily, on the other hand, the tennis part was getting better. I surprised myself with results, playing with no expectations and nothing to lose. Since all my energy was being put into school, all I could do on the tennis court was go and play. There was no more mental energy to think. My results in tennis were the only thing keeping me going at this point and one of the few positives I took from those 6 months. I also enjoyed my roommate and suitemates. They always made dinners in the dining hall a lot of fun at the end of the day. Without these distractions, my headspace would have gotten much worse.?

Over the course of the semester, my grades unfortunately did not improve much, and my anxiety only grew. I didn’t know how much else I could handle. Not only was I getting sick once every few weeks, but my migraines which I had struggled with since I was 12 were coming back and becoming more frequent. The stress, exhaustion, and lack of sleep were already so much to bear. These migraines became so debilitating I’d have to skip a whole morning of activities, having me in tears, laying in bed just waiting for them to stop. No medicine that I took was helping them, and missing class was putting me more and more behind in school. It felt like a neverending cycle.?

I’d call my mom every day, crying about the smallest inconveniences and stressing about upcoming assignments or tests so far in the future. She’d assure me that grades don’t define me and that I needed to stop being so hard on myself. College was different than high school, and I just had to get adjusted to it. She was my rock in these times, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without her and my dad. My dad helped me the only way he knew how, which was by staying on the phone with me for hours, tutoring me in math, and teaching me in a way I actually understood. These were the small things that kept me going and positive.

It’s safe to say that my first semester as a Tar Heel was rough. Practically everything was kicking me in the butt, so the fact I came through and turned everything around ever since is something I'm proud of. I finally found the balance and what works for me living this crazy life. I was so anxiety-ridden because I hadn’t failed much in my life until then. School came easy to me and sure, tennis had its downs, but for the most part, it usually went well. I wasn’t able to look past the failure. I was trying to be too perfect in everything instead of giving myself credit for showing up and trying my best. This made it hard to see the good moments when they did happen because I was so worried about making other things perfect. I struggled to stay in the moment and grateful for the opportunity to be where I was.

As cliche as it sounds, “Perfection is the enemy of good” could not apply more to my life back then and even now. If something isn’t perfect, it is okay. Nothing ever will be. And if I try to make it perfect, I’ll always come up short and be disappointed and it'll bleed into other areas of my life. My tennis isn't going to be perfect every day, so stop obsessing over it. It’s nearly impossible to have a 4.0 as a student-athlete, so stop obsessing over it. Allowing myself to see the bigger picture beyond making things perfect has helped me achieve things far better than what I expected. This is the lesson I wish I had known coming into school, but am so grateful to have learned through my own experiences.

“Perfection is the Enemy of Good" - Voltaire