The Road To Being Valedictorian And Everything In Between
This perfectionist’s honest confession.
I call this a confession even though I know how hard it is for me to be vulnerable on the internet, in front of so many strangers (technically speaking, you, dear reader are behind the keyboard, still). However, I’m staying true to my resolve to give power to my voice. So here goes!
I should probably put a warning, you know, the type that you see before really disturbing content on the internet but I feel like that would be me trying to “people please”. Therefore, my warning will go thus:
‘The following content might “play” with your emotions but try not to take it to heart. It is my story after all.’
I don’t think I have ever shared such an in-depth story about my pre-university and university journey before as I am about to do here and this is as good a time as any.
News flash: I wrote two valedictory speeches; the unfiltered one and the filtered one, both equally passing across my message. Of the things I spoke about, I highlighted the burden of expectations. This is something I’ve always had to deal with, but I’m glad I’ve successfully come to a middle ground about it.
In secondary school, I was “expected” to go to science class, as that’s supposedly where all the smart kids went (an erroneously prejudiced Nigerian belief). I wasn’t cut out for it, no surprise there. Chemistry left me feeling so confused, Physics was like a madhouse where I was the only sane person. I have so much respect for the Maths and Science whiz-kids! Here’s me virtually doffing my hat.
Damn expectations! I ran for dear life. I think that was when my in-built strong will, (they call it stubbornness here) began to really surface. I flourished in the Arts and that shut everyone up.
I finished secondary school at a relatively young age and was expected to decide on my career path and the general trajectory of my life with barely any guidance, or counselling. Then came the time for university applications, it was to be either Law or International Relations. Law did not interest me in the least bit but I really had zero clue about what I wanted to study and so, I took the road most travelled. Turns out Law did not also want me because I didn’t get in! I was too young by the University’s standards and I also missed the cut-off by 3 marks. I was elated! It wasn’t what I wanted and I was glad the feeling was mutual. I got weird looks and anger directed at me but it didn’t faze me. No be you go tell me wetin I go do!
I believe we all have dreams but for some of us, it takes time to figure it out and sometimes we spend so long lost and wandering, searching for it. That was how it was for me, I was utterly clueless!
I stumbled upon Classics by accident, did my research and heard that voice;
“This is it! This Classics is what you’ve been looking for!”
I was meant to study Classics and I did. I applied twice and eventually got in on my second try. (The stubbornness came out to play here again. I call it passion meets tenacity.) It wasn’t easy. Everybody questioned my choice. “Classics? What is that? Can you even work in Nigeria? You’ll end up as a teacher living in penury!” Despite all the nays, I’m grateful for Classics because if not for her, I would probably still be lost by now, not knowing what I want to study or do.
Classics had all my interests, let me do everything in the Faculty of Letters and consequently helped me find and choose my niche. I’m satisfied with that. We were a perfect fit; like bread and sardines, shawarma and ice cream. Some said and still say that it’s a waste of four, scratch that, six years just to identify one’s niche but for me it isn’t.
Now to how perfectionism made and nearly marred my university experience!
I wanted to graduate with a perfect CGPA of 4.0, not because I wanted to be in competition with anyone but because I wanted to be the first female student from the Faculty of Arts with a perfect CGPA. I was in competition with no one else but myself. I’ve been bullied and teased because “book is all I know” but I’m surprised at how I never once wavered.
I think I owe it to my perfectionist tendencies. Don’t be fooled, it’s not always good. I also needed to prove to myself that “no be the only book you sabi, when you no be Sabinus” so I pushed myself beyond limits. I was everywhere; acting, volunteering, directing, tutoring, working, running a business, it was exhausting! My friends would praise me and commend me on how strong I was. If only they knew! My penultimate year was the worst. As a result of COVID, we were doing blended learning.
Nobody saw my struggle as I never let it show. I cried in my room and dressed to the nines for my tests and exams, my smile plastered on my face and my energy always giving.
I remember after the first semester of my second year, I called my friend, Ebikeniye and broke down over a ‘B’ I thought was unfair. She held me down, let me cry it out and consoled me. She didn’t judge. Bless her heart. I know others who would have.
“See this one o, you get B you dey cry. Shey na ment?” You have a B and you’re crying. You must be crazy.
As a result, I was mostly guarded, with my expressions, my words, my actions and reactions and it limited my experience with school life. I had had enough of fingers pointing and whispers loud enough for me to hear and so I became closed off.
My breakdown was not over the ‘B’ or three ‘B’s’, it was because of the realization that this perfectionist will not be graduating with a perfect CGPA as planned. My friendships began to suffer. I have always been a loner but it got worse. With my academic standing becoming public knowledge, it came with a different kind of gaze and attention. I began to distance myself from people. I both love and hate the spotlight, I can’t explain it. I suffered depression at various points but no one knew because the smile remained perfect, almost like it was sculpted. At some point, I knew I had to have a conversation with Daphne, the perfectionist. It was a hard but well-needed conversation.
I threw myself back into my initial goals of excelling academically and being as well-rounded as I could be and that was when I found my close, but tight-knit community of a few amazing individuals. Then tragedy struck close to home. Just as I was about to start writing my long essay, I lost my dear friend. I needed to grieve but I didn’t let myself. I knew that if I broke down there and then, the chances of me graduating would be slim. So I wrote through grief regardless of the lumps at the back of my throat or the surprised unaware tears in my eyes. I did this thanks to my community, perfectionism and the saintlike patience of my supervisor.
I’m grieving now, in moments and memories while still trying my best to live life!
When my professor, the Head of the department called to relay the news of my being co-valedictorian, I could hardly believe it. But my CGPA is not perfect? Still, I was honoured! It showed me that my definition of perfect was not universal and that sometimes perfection does not have to be an even number, a neatly rounded doughnut or a 4.0 CGPA. I am actually grateful for all the ups and downs, my university experience helped shape me into the person I am today and that in itself is an accolade!
I still have my perfectionist tendencies and even though it used to be one of the things I disliked the most about myself, I am learning how to channel it properly. I also still have “coconut head” which I have always embraced and it has never failed me! I’m still growing and learning and where grace guides, I’ll continue to go!
Thank you for reading my lengthy story. If you like this, let me know. There’s more where that came from! Do you also struggle with perfectionism?
