Personal Narrative: My Failure Story

Ironically, my failure story begins with my drive for success. For the first fifteen years of my life I was that kid who was good at everything. I demonstrated intellectual ability, athletic talent, and artistic gifts. Unfortunately, the praise I received fueled a desire to be flawless. And although no one could have known at the time, my will to succeed was the first sign of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD).

I remember, even as far back as Kindergarten, being overcome with a need to be perfect. I’m hunched over my desk, coloring vigorously, I feel an insistent tap on my shoulder. Glancing up from my desk, a friend hovers over me, “Elly, we need you to play four square! You’re the only one who has ever gotten Kamryn out.” I want to play

I was striving to maintain ‘Perfect Elly’, but my standards were too high for all I was trying to accomplish–it became unhealthy. Staying in at recess as a young child to finish projects escalated to staying up all night finalizing assignments. I started missing school–a lot. I withdrew from my normal activities and eventually stopped leaving the house altogether. However, my schoolwork continued to accumulate. F’s and ‘incompletes’ began to appear on my report card. I crashed head on into failure–completely fettered by an OCD

Failure forced me to recognize that I was seeking contentment through perfection, an unattainable goal. The collapse of my perfect world allowed me to slowly rebuild a healthier one. I started seeing an OCD specialist and attending meditation retreats, carefully emerging into regular life again. After quieting my perfectionistic voices, it became clear how much anxious chatter dominated my thoughts. But more importantly, my failure and recovery compelled me to open up to others and unleashed innovation. I established a mindfulness club at my school–something I wouldn’t have dared to attempt a few years ago. Understanding that those who are able to explore their authentic self gain access to the possibility of inner peace and outer freedom has empowered me to take other risks as well; from intentionally letting my room get messy to traveling alone to a developing country. So many people choose to hide beneath a mask of pretense; some spend their entire lives beneath this veneer. Without the failure I faced sophomore year, I’m afraid I would still be defined and limited by my perfectionist OCD mask. I’ve learned that neither an imperfect drawing, nor research project, nor even an imperfect college essay will stop the world from rotating on its