seekingmygreaterperhaps

So exactly a year ago I landed in Europe, a little jet lagged and very excited to start my adventure. Since then, my life has been a whirlwind of activity. To catch you up, pretty much 5 days after I landed in the United States, I went off the grid and went to summer camp for the second time. Here is where I fell in love, both with a wonderful man, and with my 15, 15-year old girls, and the bliss that is camp life. Then, a quick couple months later, I moved directly to a new state where I began my graduate program in counseling  at the #1 program in the country. (Waddup) And I have been there since. Oh I also took a trip to Hungary to visit said love, and a trip home to visit family.

Cool, but why are you posting now? To be honest, this is the first time I’ve been home before 8 pm on a weekday in 4 weeks, and I felt pulled to do so. Throughout this very grueling program, I have started to learn a few things about myself, and I wanted to share them with someone. I could journal, but for some reason, my generation loves sharing things with the public. So to live up to stereotypes- here I go.

Before I started this program, I did not think of myself as a perfectionist. But then one of my professors labeled it and named it, and I realize that I indeed am a perfectionist. What you may not understand, dear reader, is how hard it is to be a perfectionist in a field full of “it depends.” You ask a specific question in class and the situation will 99% be, “well it depends.” On the client. On the situation. On the therapeutic relationship. On about a billion factors. I. Hate. It. I just want answers so much of the time. It is the second semester and I have just recently starting catching myself from rolling my eyes every time I hear “it depends.” It’s a hard fact to accept, especially for a planner like me.

This semester is especially challenging. We have the opportunity (read: are forced) to meet with actual clients this semester! 40 hours worth! Of real people! As I am still a tadpole in the profession, I should accept that I am bound to make mistakes, and that is exactly why I and my fellow cohort-mates are under such a bounty of supervision. However, I still find myself in a spiral of negativity every time I watch a tape of a session that I believe went less than perfectly. Constructive criticism sticks to me like glue, and positive feedback is lost almost as soon as it is heard. So that is exactly why I wanted to show myself some love and write a post about how proud I am of the woman I am becoming.

Dearest Michaella, I am proud of you and all the work you are putting in to follow your dreams. I am proud of you for losing sleep now so that you can make an impact on people later. I am proud of you for working two jobs so that you can learn the skills you will need to succeed in your future job. I am proud that you are learning to cook! I am proud that you still managed to find a way to get to China after some haters said it wasn’t possible (the credit for that goes to God). I am proud of you for taking the time to wake up early to work out, even though you have to set 7 alarms to get out of bed. Your body will thank you later. I am proud of you for all the tears you have shed while you are learning about yourself- it’s good to let those emotions out even if it sucks. I am proud of you for fighting for your relationship even when long-distance gets tiring. I am proud of you and for the person that you are challenging yourself to become.

This post comes at the tail end of an extremely exhausting week. I was closer to dropping out than I have ever been before, even if I joke that I’m quitting about every week. It’s a hard program to say the least. But I vowed to someone I look up to that I will try to show myself some more self-compassion. For the perfectionists like me out there- it’s okay to be a tadpole. Especially when you are learning. Stumble along. Make mistakes. Maybe even accept that you made a mistake. Maybe. Nobody ever became an expert without practice. Eventually we grow up and those mistakes turn into something beautiful. Or you crash and burn, but you learn either way.

I’ll end here. After all, this post was more for me than for you. I am happy to acknowledge that I am proud of the woman I am becoming. It’s an every day struggle now, but I’m putting in the work to work my way up the staircase of the life I want to lead. And I need to take things one step at a time.

Szia.

*Front says- I know so many teachers with mental health issues- but none that take the time to take care of themselves*