What is Perfection?

What is perfection? I have asked myself this query plenty of times in my seventeen years of life. I have always thought there was a set description of a perfect teenager: one hundreds on all the tests, impressive extracurricular activities, star athlete and even the lead role of the school’s play.
I am the first to admit that I am a perfectionist. I have always wanted to be the best I can be. I take school work very seriously and I always have to make sure I obtain the highest grade I can. I have been on Principal’s List since ninth grade, meaning I have maintained an average of ninety-four percent or higher. I always feel like I am disappointing myself when I do not do as well as I know I can. I have been told plenty of times that I have “OCD”. This is because my room is absolutely spotless.

Everything has a place and I can notice right away when someone has moved my belongings around. Although I really am not obsessive compulsive, I am meticulous about making my room look presentable.
I also like everything in my life to go as I would like. I know it is impossible to control exactly how my life will pan out, but that doesn’t stop me from trying. I have had to be told numerous times to “calm down and relax”. When an event does not go as well as I planned, I “freak out” and become nervous until the event is over. Over years of being like this, I feel like I have to learn to be a teenager and have fun with my life.

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I was told once by my softball coach that I am my “own worst enemy”. When I first heard him say that, I thought to myself, ‘He must be crazy; I do not have any problems with who I am’. As the time passed though, I slowly understood what he meant. It is not that I don’t like myself; it is that I am always beating myself up. I put more stress on myself than anyone around me. In school, I am one of those people who cry over an eighty on a test. In sports, I am always pushing myself to be better than my team-mates. Whenever I am not happy with my performance, I always put myself down; thinking about everything I did wrong.
I’m slowly starting to realize that I am human and that means I am allowed to make mistakes. As long as I try my hardest, there is nothing to be frustrated about. It’s apparent that I have plenty of friends and family who support everything I do. If there’re not upset with my performance, why should I be? There is no such thing as perfection and I’m starting to understand that.