Editor’s Epilogue: Finding satisfaction with my imperfections

One of my core memories is of a sunny day in my second grade classroom. Light streamed through the open windows, and I sat with my legs crossed next to my classmates on the floor in front of my teacher as he read us a book. I can’t remember what the book was about, but I remember my teacher closing the book after he finished and telling us that we should never strive for perfection because we would never be satisfied. 

That lesson was not a unique one by any means, but it’s one that has always stuck out to me — mainly because I’ve never fully learned it to this day. 

I realized pretty quickly after that day that I would never become perfect, but I also found that it wasn’t too difficult for me to pretend I was. As I grew older, my ambition towards becoming perfect shifted into an ambition towards seeming perfect. 

And so began my lifestyle of making decisions and participating in experiences to craft an outward perception of a life that appeared perfect. Taking and excelling in AP courses in high school was important to me, but not as important as appearing “smart” and “put together.” Getting asked on dates is nice, but not as nice as appearing “desirable” and “romantically interesting.” Being involved in strenuous extracurricular activities is something I love, but I don’t love that as much as appearing “busy” and “capable.” 

And if someone, at least from the outside, looks like they’re smart, desirable or capable, how could they not be satisfied with that? 

I suppose this even manifests itself in my decision to be a journalist, as the commitment to objectivity in reporting erases any hint of myself in my work. When I shift attention away from myself and to the subjects I’m highlighting in the articles I write, it feels like no one is paying attention to me and the flaws I’ve tried so hard to conceal. 

In this way, it’d be accurate to say I spend a lot of my life feeding off others. The images people construct of me in their minds have begun to shape the person I am, which is an incredibly backwards way of forming an identity and sense of self. 

It’s almost like extrinsic validation — compliments and accolades act as my life currency. When I make a decision based on something I hope others will like about me, my outer image becomes grander and more extravagant, while my inner self loses more and more value. 

But if my identity is solely built around the boxes that people place me into, where is the box that I, as an individual, created for myself? If my actions are dictated just based on the ways I think people perceive me, what room does that leave for me to decide my actions based on how I think and feel? 

I’ve been thinking about this and doing a lot of self-reflection lately, so the timing of this installment of “Editor’s Epilogue” honestly couldn’t have come at a better time. As I think about who I am in combination with my goals of perfection — both what is real and what is perceived — I can’t help but feel as if my efforts to be everything that I think everyone else wants me to be has made me feel the farthest from this goal I’ve been stretching myself so far to reach. 

I don’t want to live for others. I refuse to believe that my sole purpose in life is to create a flawless image of myself, thereby eradicating all of the imperfections that shape me into my truest form. 

I know I’m not perfect, and I suppose I now know that I don’t need to try to be. I’ve even realized that perhaps the closest I’ll ever get to this notion of perfection is being honest and genuine with myself, and by living a life I’ve constructed with myself as my top priority. 

Writing this was really hard for me because it feels like I’ve chosen to dismantle the carefully curated perfect image of myself that I’ve spent a large chunk of my life creating. I feel scared and vulnerable — which are emotions my outwardly perfect self would never want to reveal. But maybe this column was my first step towards the beginning of a new lifestyle — one where the only validation I crave is the satisfaction I find within myself. 

“Editors’ Epilogue” is a rotating column featuring a new Daily Trojan editor in each installment and their personal experiences of living in what seems to be an irrepressible dumpster fire of a world.