Campus Calm Community
Where students speak out about grades, stress and personal well-being

I started a new trend two years ago on New Year's Eve, which also happens to be my birthday. Instead of writing a rigid list of resolutions for the next year, I write myself a thank you note, highlighting all my accomplishments, big and small, from the previous year. When I take the time to write down everything I achieved, I'm usually in awe by what I've learned and how much I've grown.

But I didn't always feel that way.

When I was 16, I wrote in my journal, "I have set many goals for myself and I will not be satisfied until I've achieved them all." Every night I was in my room doing endless hours of homework while my friends were out having fun. "C'mon, Maria. We're going skating," they'd plead over the phone. Sorry, paper's due. "We're going out for ice cream." Nope. Sorry. "Don't you want to have fun?" Sigh. I dove into my books and told myself it'll all be worth it someday.

It was as if some relentless mandate for success had been programmed into my brain, moving me like a salmon determined to swim upstream. It was a never-ending storm of expectations that was swallowing me whole. Perfect grades. Perfect college. Perfect career. Perfect life. Perfect looks. Pay attention world. I'll show you how it's done.

In 2001, I walked across a spotlighted stage with tears in my eyes and accepted my summa cum laude college diploma while my family snapped pictures and beamed with pride. I was crying not because all my dreams had come true, but because I had stressed myself out to the point of being sick. And worse, my childhood dream to be a writer was as lifeless and empty as my blank journal page taunting me to compose one word more perfect than the next. From somewhere inside echoed these words: You're not a writer, you fake. You'll never be good enough. You'll never take that risk. Coward. You with the perfect grades. It means nothing. You're nothing.

A psychologist once told me that a perfectionist might have to hit a wall in order to make a personal choice to cut herself some slack. I hit mine walking across that stage. FINALLY. Plowed right into it with my little perfect existence. My eyes were really opened for the first time in my life; I was a newborn taking my first peak at a frightfully glorious world.

This message really hit home at my grandfather's bedside one sunny September afternoon in the ICU. While the cancer shut down Grandpa's body one cell at a time and all I wanted to do was wrap myself in the moment and never let him go, he told me, "Maria, don't stay in here. It's beautiful outside. Go. You have better things to do." He understood. He knew that life was precious and that I should seek out its treasures before I would have to say goodbye. How bitter would my goodbyes be someday if I looked back and realized I'd never really lived?

Not too long ago, I leapt off a lofty cliff and decided to live my dream of becoming an entrepreneur and a writer. My husband fully supported my decision even though it meant he would become the main breadwinner until my business took off. Unfortunately, not everyone in my life had been so wonderful.

Some "friends" and relatives refuse to believe that I work just because I happen to set up shop from home. Not long ago, I would have internalized their criticism and allowed them to dictate my definition of success. But not anymore. I realize now that I don't have to live up to their expectations. I know that as long as I follow my heart, I'm doing my education proud. And more importantly, I'm doing myself proud. I finally realize that I'm good enough after all ... and I always have been.

A young woman writer recently asked, "I can be anything I want so how do I choose?" For New Year's '07, I think I'll send myself this thank you note: "Thank you for accepting yourself and being happy with that."

Love,

Me.

Leave me feedback at the end of this entry. I'd love to hear from you!

There will always be a classmate who gets better grades, wins more awards, seems so put together. Maybe she'll graduate at top of her class and go on to an Ivy League college. Land the best job. Flaunt the most impressive portfolio. Maybe she'll marry well and boast the brightest kids. Do you think that's the only way to reach success? Guess what? It's not!

When I was in my senior year of college, a guy beat me out by less than a point for having the highest grade point average in the English department, where we had both majored. Like me, he was graduating summa cum laude. Unlike me, he was going off to graduate school to become a college professor. I was battling depression, daily stomachaches and a paralyzing uncertainty about the future. That student who had beaten me by the tiniest of margins seemed so pulled together, calm and collected. I had the grades, the accolades, and the respect of my family. Yet, I was falling apart on the inside. I had cracked under the pressure. So I felt like a failure.

Successful by my own standards

Then my fiancé (now husband of four years) brought me home a book of quotes and one in particular changed my outlook. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." I realized at that moment that I was measuring my self-worth by how well the person next to me was doing. I didn't even respect those standards I was using to judge myself by!

Just recently, I came across a 27-year-old writer's website. She was exactly my age. She had penned five books, interned at The New Yorker, been published worldwide, been interviewed by Oprah. I admit it. I momentarily started the comparison game, and I came up on the losing end. Then I emailed that writer and told her how much I admired her success at such a young age and how I was actually a little intimidated by it. She emailed me back and said that her web designer hadn't updated her site in a while and that she was actually three years older than me! But more importantly, I was reminded once again that the world is a big enough place for us all to celebrate and learn from each other's successes -- if one person succeeds, it doesn't mean the other person fails by comparison.

If you want to learn how to discover your unique skills and inner strength, you need to stop measuring them by other people's standards.

Stop the comparison game today:

•Realize that every person's situation is unique. Every single person in this world has a unique set of strengths and skills that no other person possesses. The key to discovering them is to look inside. So what if the guy next to you has a better grade point average and enough extracurriculars to fill a book. So what if the girl two doors down the street from your parents is a gifted musician who made it into Juilliard and is headed for New York City. Do their accomplishments somehow make you less talented? Less worthy?

•Develop your own strengths. Our interests and experiences shape us all in different ways. That means that we are all experts in some area. The key is finding something you are passionate about and then having the courage to develop it. Whether that means perfecting your painter's stroke to create murals on clients' living room walls, or using your love of technology to develop the latest computer software program, you absolutely have something of value to offer this world. If you're in high school, talk to your favorite teacher or guidance counselor about your passions and talents. If you're a college student, consider visiting your career center and making an appointment to speak with a counselor. My college career counselor helped me more than I could possibly say when it came to developing confidence in my strengths and building my career.

•Network with those same people you feel intimidated by. Locate people who are working in your dream career and request an information interview. Sounds scary, huh? It's really quite simple. I used to love reading a weekly column about women in my local newspaper so I e-mailed the author. I complimented her, told her I was interested in learning more about her career and asked if I could take 15 minutes of her time to ask a few questions. Well, that truly awesome lady gave me an hour and a half of her time, took me to lunch, and introduced me around the newsroom. Today, she's one of my biggest champions. Don't be afraid to contact people and ask questions. Adults like to feel important and will most likely LOVE the opportunity to talk about their jobs!

•Surround Yourself with Optimistic People. If you want to develop your inner strength, surrounding yourself with people who glow from the inside out is the way to do it. People who love their lives and take pride in living each day to the fullest. Join clubs, volunteer, reach out to those people who share your interests. While you're busy having fun and making new friends, watch how quickly your own self-confidence begins to soar! No comparisons necessary.

Leave me feedback at the end of this entry. I'd love to hear from you!

Several years ago, I sat on the sidelines and watched other women light up rooms. They weren't stunning in the way that women are supposed to be, but they had this beauty about them that I just couldn't pinpoint. All I knew was that I was lacking in it. It was body confidence, I later found out -- a confidence I embrace today, knowing full well how long it took me to find.

When I was 13 years old, something as minor as a pimple could leave me moping for hours. I wore heavy makeup to conceal my acne -- so much so that I could spend an hour in the bathroom before school to make sure every blotch on my face was hidden. 'Friends' at school called me "zit face" to be cruel; I tried to ignore them, but I knew it was true. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a pale comparison of the girl I used to be.

That year, our school took a three-day field trip to Washington D.C., where we stayed at a hotel with a swimming pool. I wasn't embarrassed to be seen in a swimsuit, but I always wore a t-shirt to hide the acne that scattered my arms and back. As my right foot skimmed the cool water, the lifeguard yelled, "Sorry, it's against hotel policy to wear t-shirts in the pool." I watched my friends splash around, confident with their flawless skin and knew I could never expose myself. I faked a stomachache and bolted for the privacy of my hotel bathroom. Outraged, I peeled off my t-shirt to unmask scabbed, irritated skin. I cursed the imperfect reflection in the bathroom mirror. I screamed, "I HATE you! You're SO ugly!"

By the time I turned 15, the acne had vanished thanks to medication. Eventually, the scars faded to the background. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a face that was pretty again, but a body that was all wrong. I discovered in a dressing room that at 130 pounds, I was too fat for my 5'2'' body.

"I'm hideous!" I moaned to my mother, creaking the dressing room door open so she could see my fat thighs in the sparkly black mini. Sigh.

"No you're not," she reassured, smiling sadly. She suggested that exercise might make me feel better.

I bought exercise videos and gave up ice cream and chocolate, those sinful foods women aren't supposed to eat. In the high school cafeteria, I ate dry turkey subs (the cafeteria didn't offer low-fat mayo packets), skim milk, and cups of pineapples. My taller and thinner girlfriend enjoyed chocolate milk, fries, and Doritos. She also went to bed at night with her makeup on and never saw a pimple in her life. Talk about fairness.

By age 20, I maintained a stable weight of 120 pounds and accepted my short legs. I then obsessed about my too-small chest! At a small 34B, I felt my body would be better if only my breasts were larger like women on magazine covers and on television. I'd never been a sucker for gimmicks, never chanted, "I must, I must, I must increase my bust" while squeezing my pecks but an obsession had taken hold.

I bought padded bras, gel-filled inserts, and pills promising to increase bust-size (they didn't). I contemplated breast augmentation. Small breasts signified something was missing -- a scaled down version of femininity, I was sure.

Then in college, I devoured books about America's obsessive quest for physical beauty and how impossible standards hurt women and girls. Something as insignificant as a mirror holds the power to control our self-image. A piece of glass can determine how we feel about ourselves. I had enough. FINALLY.

I stood before my bedroom mirror, stripped of clothing, exposed to myself. I studied my body slowly, trying to see beyond the pain and insecurity to find what remained -- just me.

I saw my father's deep brown eyes, my mother's thick brown hair, and full lips that reveal a fantastic smile when I'm happy enough to show it off. I saw thin, shapely arms sprinkled with nineteen beauty marks, a flat stomach, and small breasts proportional to my body. I turned around. Sure, my behind was a teensy bit bigger than I would have liked, but it certainly wasn't anything to be ashamed of. My legs were short, but I liked how toned they looked. They were petite and curvy. At that moment, I finally just saw me. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I accepted myself as a beautifully flawed woman.

When I was a teenager, one of my best friends had a beautiful dancer's body. She flaunted long graceful legs, small hips, and a flat bottom -- everything I had always wanted. Imagine my surprise when she confided that she was jealous of me!

"Are you SERIOUS?" I gasped, inspecting myself in her dresser mirror. "You're tall and can eat anything you want and never gain a pound. Your legs are so thin."

"But you're curvy," she responded. "Guys look at you." A single tear glided down her left cheek as she pulled her long legs close to her chest. She grabbed her favorite teddy bear from her bed and ran her fingers through its soft white fur, careful to avert my gaze. I didn't have the courage to tell her the truth, so I let the silence hang between us until she changed the subject. We eventually drifted apart.

I should have told her, "Imagine how amazing we both could feel if we saw in ourselves what others have seen all along." My younger self never did, and my older self wishes I would have.

At age 27, I find loving my body means accepting that it will NEVER be perfect. No matter how much I work out, I accept that my behind will never look flawless, like bronzed goddesses on television. I'll never look like a supermodel, but I don't care. I'm real and when I brush past a mirror, I'm finally comfortable with everything I see. Thankfully, my surrendered battle with the mirror empowers me to focus on more important aspects of my life ...

Like realizing my dreams.

"I finally realized that being grateful to my body was key to giving more love to myself."
Oprah Winfrey

Let's discuss:

• How important do you think a positive body image is to your success?
• Do you have a positive body image? Why or why not?
• Have you ever let your body insecurities stop you from realizing a dream?
• Can you name a few role models who maintain a positive body image? What can you take from them to implement in your own life?
• What do you think makes a person beautiful?

Leave me feedback at the end of this entry. I'd love to hear from you!

Want to learn about a free, ten-minute exercise that will help you discover your unique, authentic self? Read on ...

Up until three months ago, I had no idea who I was without my achievements. My career goals, they were my LIFE goals. They were all I thought about - 24/7. Showing the world. Making others proud of me. My portfolio. My resume. My perfect GPA - that was how I measured my self-worth.

Can any of you relate? If you’re not getting good grades, working or volunteering, winning awards or planning for your future, do you know whom you are?

After 27 years, I decided to find out. I sat down with pen and paper and proceeded to list exactly who I was without my achievements. Some ideas came easily and others did not. If you struggle to come up with a few, don’t worry. Ask a trusted friend or family member to help you out. Return the favor by telling them why they’re so great, with or without their accomplishments.

Here's what I came up with:

I am ...

• a person who has a big heart.
• a person who finds satisfaction in helping others to feel good about themselves.
• a person who loves her family and desires to spend time with them.
• a woman who is lucky enough to have a fantastic, supportive and loving husband who is truly my best friend (We've dated since high school).
• a person who seeks meaning in the world.
• a kid at heart who needs to remember my roots (I just bought a bicycle and rediscovered the exhilaration of pedaling the evening and my cares away).
• a physical being who loves to dance, bike, rollerblade, jump rope and hike in the woods.
• a person who loves nature - minus the bugs!
• a person who feels a sense of calm every time I sit by the water.
• a person who will laugh at just about any joke and make just about anyone feel funny.
• a principled writer who believes in the power to make money while doing something positive for society.
• a woman who is flawed, has doubts but continues to love herself anyway.

All these things make up who I am authentically. They will never change no matter what mistakes I make, what "failures" I endure, or what success I achieve.

Now that you've skimmed through mine, give it a try! Leave me a comment at the bottom of this post and tell me what you came up with.

"The tragedy is that so many people look for self-confidence and self-respect everywhere except within themselves, and so they fail in their search."
Dr. Nathaniel Branden