Authentic Eagles: Carolyn Griesser On Being Perfectly Imperfect

The Gavel
Written by 

As Boston College students, it can be tempting to hide our true selves. Embracing our individuality  can help us to understand ourselves and experience the world around us as genuinely as possible.Authentic Eagles is a series that gives a voice to the people who have experienced firsthand the trials, tribulations, and triumphs of being one’s authentic self at BC. We hope that readers are inspired to have conversations and reflections of their own, working towards being more authentic.

Carolyn Griesser, A&S ’15

As a little girl growing up, I was very particular with the toys I would play with. To put it plainly, they had to be perfect. So picture this: I have a Barbie Doll set with a thousand little pieces included…all the way from the matching Malibu Beach shirt and skirt, down to the hot pink plastic heels. Looking back it’s almost hard to imagine that I was able to keep track of those trivial details at such a young age, but somehow mini-me did. When I inevitably lost one of the small plastic shoes, I was too focused on what was missing to appreciate all that was still there. I only wanted to associate myself with things that were as good as new, just like the way I bought them. While it was unrealistic of me to think that everything in my life could and should remain pristine, that is what I wanted for as long as I can remember.

I’d like to say that I shook myself of this mentality around the same time when I outgrew the Barbie Dolls, but what I realize now is that this attitude translated into my personal life. Throughout high school I defined myself by my successes—I was a varsity athlete, student council executive, service group member, AP and honors student, with high aspirations of getting into a prestigious college. Striving for perfection was seen in all aspects of my life. When I would walk off the lacrosse field after a game, my mind would replay the shot I missed or the groundball I could have had. Rather than focusing on all that I did well, I couldn’t help but think about what went wrong. In the classroom, a B+ was not an option, and well, nothing I would ever be proud of. Though I strove for it everyday, I never was able to reach my own definition of “perfection.”

Coming to BC off of the waitlist was already enough of a setback in my mind, so my goal was to do all that I could to catch up to others around me. I dove into classes, extracurriculars, the social scene…. everything to keep up with the illusion of perfection walking, talking, and living around me everyday. People told me I had it all together, and for a long time I let myself believe that their perception of my perfection was enough. I smiled, I waved, and they thought it was all okay, so I chose to ignore the possibility that I wasn’t.

Sophomore year it all caught up to me. I was overextended and overwhelmed. Close family and friends couldn’t ignore the falseness with which I delivered, “I’m fine.” And yet, that remained my response. If I continued to put up the façade that I was happy, I thought I could even convince myself of it. All of this changed that spring after running the 2013 Boston Marathon and experiencing the events at the finish line.

After that day, for the first time in my life, I was unable to keep up the wall that I was okay. I couldn’t hide the fact that I skipped classes for 2 weeks, took an incomplete in a course, and many days I couldn’t muster a smile. Anxiety was also a new concept for me…something that I had always perceived as a weakness, was now a new part of my life. Rationally I knew random loud noises were not explosions, but I couldn’t prevent the flashbacks and panic attacks that would inevitably proceed. For the first time, I fully realized that this idea of perfection I strove for was both unrealistic and inauthentic.

There is something quite liberating in voicing when things are not okay, and admitting to both myself and to others that I have flaws and some brokenness in my life. I have found that in those moments, when I let people see my imperfections that make me human, they are able to love me for everything, not just what I want others to see. While I still strive for greatness in all that I do, I now view my life with a new lens, and I’ve come a long way since crying over missing Barbie Doll pieces.

This summer I put my IPhone down on a couch for a minute, and when I picked it back up the screen was shattered. Instead of getting upset, I actually laughed a little bit and smiled. When a friend asked what was so funny I couldn’t help to think about how far I had come in just one year.  In the past I would have been so irritated that it wasn’t perfect that I would have probably needed to get the screen replaced the next day. Now I’ve come to see the value and beauty in moments that break us, the stories behind the scars that give us character, and all the other imperfections in my life that are, well…. perfectly me.

Website |  + posts

Comments

Categories: ,
, , ,
Related Articles

Latest Posts