All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I'm strong, not perfect.
Perfection comes at a cost. When everyone views you as perfect, you have to maintain that. You can’t let people see you as weak. But I’m at the edge of the brink, about to fall.
The perfect looks, the perfect grades, the perfect family, the perfect life…that’s how people view me. But they’re wrong. I am not perfect. I’ll be the first to admit it. Yet, I still have a problem of letting people see that. I can’t let people see me as weak.
I am not weak. My circumstances have made me strong. My quote on quote perfect life has made me strong. It’s made me who I am today.
But maybe I should give you some background.
My mom’s an alcoholic, my parents divorced when I was four, and my dad got remarried. I believe that takes out my “perfect family.”
Most people I know wouldn’t have been affected the same way I was by these things. I’m surprised I turned out the way that I did. Sure, I’m a good person, but my life hasn’t defined me.
Because of my mom’s alcoholism, I’ve seen the results: pain, divorce, lying, the list goes on. I don’t want that. I refuse to be influenced by alcohol. I don’t want that to control me. Life is too precious to waste.
Because of my parents’ divorce, I’m waiting for the right guy. I realize how important it is to find someone you love and loves you back, but also respects you and will never give up on you. And I’m willing to wait for that. I don’t want a divorce. I’m saving my heart for someone who won’t hurt me.
Because of my dad’s remarriage, I’ve learned its okay to be wrong. Hatred is not a word used for my stepmom, but rather, annoyance. She lies, trying to convince others that she’s right, even when she’s wrong. One thing I can’t stand about her is her anger. It flips on and off like a light switch. And trust me, you don’t want to be around when it turns on. So, to make sure I am never that way, I focus on staying calm. It’s not my best trait, but I’ve learned to respect others, because I want them to respect me.
You know the phrase, learn from others mistakes. That is the basis of my life, of my standards. The person I am today is not because of some huge decision I made when I turned thirteen or because someone taught me the right way, I had to learn for myself, through the mistakes of others.
Yes, God helped me realize the evil of these mistakes, and that’s why I try to turn against it. Am I perfect? No. I’ve already said that. But I do know God doesn’t want me to make those decisions.
But if I have one problem with God, which there are many more, but this is the biggest, it’s this: I’m too afraid to let him see me weak either. I’m too independent, I guess you could say. I don’t let anyone see me cry if I can help it. I don’t want people to see me as some pathetic, crybaby who complains about her sucky life. I don’t want to complain to God about that sometimes. I just ask for strength, hope he gives me some so I can move on from whatever problem I face.
Right now, that problem is stress.
Everything seems to be crashing down at me all at once. Now, even the little things make me angry. It won’t take long before I break. But I hope that no one will be around. Because when I break, I will cry, I will be weak, I will push away any help offered, because I think that I’m strong enough.
But I’m not.
It’s okay to cry.
It’s okay to be weak.
Especially in front of God.
I don’t have to be perfect, or try my hardest to be. I’ll never achieve perfection anyways, why strive for it?
Because people expect it now. If I mess up, it’s like the sky is falling and I’m the cause. Everyone gets angry with me.
I can’t be perfect.
And you shouldn’t expect me to me.
Not you, who think I have the perfect life.
Not you, the stepmom with too high of expectations.
Not you, people who see my smile and believe it to be true.
I’m not perfect. So please, leave me alone, let me live my life.
I’m strong, not perfect.