Confession: I’m in an abusive relationship with my grades.

I’ve been lying to myself. And I’ve known this and avoided it for a while, but I can’t quite do that anymore, because if I don’t admit it to myself (and apparently, the only way I can force myself to do so is by blogging to the world about it), I will probably explode.

Too much of my self-worth is attached to my grades, and if you know me, you’re already more than aware of this (you’re probably concerned about it). Any time someone’s told me I should maybe dial down how much of a slut I am for A’s and A+’s, I’ve reminded them that I am an international student from India, my family is earning Indian salaries to pay for an American education, and I need to make sure that investment feels worth it. There is some truth to that, of course, in that I want my family to be proud of me. I want to be able to confidently say that moving to the US was worth it and that I’m good at what I came here for. People here assume that much of the pressure I put on myself comes from brown parents being stereotypically strict and while I never make that claim outright, I don’t correct their false assumption. And I feel terrible about it every time my dad reminds me that I’m putting too much pressure on myself, that it’s okay to get A-‘s, and that submitting something subpar is far better than submitting nothing in the pursuit of perfection and letting a Wall of Awful build around it until it feels impossible to do without having a breakdown. My dad doesn’t care about my grades, y’all! Neither does my mom! They just care about me. They want me to be okay. They trust me and have faith in my ability to make something of myself, and they don’t need perfect grades from me to continue doing so. So why do I?

Every semester since freshman Fall, I have psychologically destroyed myself to ensure that I could get the grades I wanted. That first semester, I kept my standards low, because I knew I had a lot to adjust to, from a totally new system of education, to living by myself, to the culture shock, to dealing with my mental health, to maintaining a long distance relationship, to making new friends where I knew absolutely no one, and so much more. When I got my grades back, I was okay with them, even though I knew they could be better. Honestly, I was just happy to be alive. But then I found out my then-boyfriend’s grades, and I chose to focus on how his were perfect and mine weren’t even though we went through the same fights with each other. Somehow, I convinced myself that our fights were the only reason I hadn’t gotten perfect grades. Yes, I’d felt swept away by the relationship; I always had been. But claiming that it was the only thing that got in the way of my academics was far from the truth. The next semester, I promised myself I’d get all A’s, no matter what happened. We took breaks from our relationship. I had nearly no social life. I stopped taking care of myself. I wanted A’s. And I got them! I proved to myself that I was smart (in hindsight, only academically). And once I got a taste of how A’s felt, I wanted them every semester after. And once I knew how A+’s felt, A’s weren’t enough either.

This semester, I’m probably going to get an A- in a course I’m taking mostly for fun that will also count towards my major GPA. I know these aren’t Real Problems, but what that’s forced me to confront is that the only person putting this pressure to get perfect grades on me is me. And I don’t need to. I’m enthusiastic when I have the emotional capacity to do so. I’m sincere towards my academics when I have the mental capacity. I work really hard when I have the energy. And I can’t have any of those things if I’m not taking care of myself. I can’t be myself, my genuinely enthusiastic, hardworking, sincere self, if I’m constantly overwhelmed and depressed. There is no point to my straight-A illusion of having my shit together when it’s causing me to completely fall apart. And of course my grades aren’t my only source of stress. But they are the least necessary source! And acknowledging that will give me the space and energy to actually get my shit together in other aspects that are more important in the long run.

This blog post isn’t well-written or poetic or funny, but it is a confession as was promised. I have created my own Wall of Awful around getting perfect grades. Here’s a brief breakdown of its bricks:

If I don’t get perfect grades, my professors won’t know how much I care. I can’t disappoint them or be misunderstood by them, because I care so much. I might forget how much I cared if I look back and don’t see good grades. My parents will regret the money they spent to send me to school abroad. I will never be able to make that up to them. I have to be a good example for my little brother. I’m such a mess and all my friends know it, but they still think I’m smart because of my grades, so they still come to me for advice and with interesting conversations, and they might stop doing that if I don’t seem smart anymore. I’ll lose their respect. I’ll lose my own. My ridiculously smart best friend would think we’re not intellectually compatible and care less about my opinions on things. I won’t get a good job in the future. I’ll get kicked out of this country if I don’t find a job. I won’t have the time for things I love and care about without a good job. I won’t get into grad school and get to work my way towards becoming an Occupational Therapist. I won’t get to learn all the things I want to (even though trying to get perfect grades is stopping me from learning right now). I’m an RA and why would my residents take my academic advice seriously if they don’t think I work hard and do well? My grades have gotten me both my TA and research jobs.

So, somehow, I’ve built up this Wall of Awful over the years and convinced myself that without my grades, I wouldn’t have my friends, my parents’ faith in my competence, my brother’s and residents’ respect, anyone’s respect, really, a good future, my place in this country, a job, and pretty much everything I care about. It sounds completely ridiculous written out like that in one place, but when my thoughts are racing, I don’t have the time to process it. Anyway, it’s total bullshit. Prioritizing academics does not mean putting the other aspects of my life on hold.

My professors know from my questions and discussions and the effort I put into my assignments that I care so very much. My best friend has always thought I’m smarter than I’ve allowed myself to think I am. My brother looks up to me in that he’s always excited to tell me about how he’s using my study hacks for school. My residents think I’m approachable, and my grades don’t change the fact that I’m good at giving advice. I’ll probably find a job and if I get kicked out of this country, I’ll figure something else out, because after this past year, no crisis can faze me. My friends literally could not care less about my GPA. They don’t even know what it is. My parents want to see me thrive, and their definition of thriving encompasses so much more than academics.

My Wall of Awful has doors. I promise I’m working my way to the other side.