Carly F.
Photography by Mason Schlopy
If you’re reading this, know you’re enough.
My mom always told me I was a star when I was younger. She said I was the brightest star, and no one could take away my shine. I always believed her, but the older I got, the harder it was for me to beam proudly.
I have two older brothers, and it always seemed like life was easier for them. My first brother Jesse grew up reading all day long, was on the math team, and went to an Ivy League college. My other brother Ethan was a star athlete and a math genius, which added to the pressure. It seemed like life always went their way, but I always felt like I was struggling. I always needed extra help, and I always had a hard time in classes; I was the one who needed to sit down and spend hours on the material. I was ashamed that I couldn’t get things like them, and it took a dig at my self-confidence.
I constantly found myself comparing myself to them. If Jesse and Ethan were so good at math and science, why wasn’t I? If Jesse and Ethan were going to such a fantastic university, would I be able to live up to this, too? It was a downward spiral of negative thinking, and it took away my sparkle.
In middle school, things became even more challenging because I struggled in math, and my teacher didn’t believe in me either. I was only in 6th grade, and I would come home crying that I would never be able to live up to the standards my brothers set and that a good university would not be an option for me. I kept my head down academically even when I was doing well because I was embarrassed to draw any attention to myself in case of the next mess up. It was almost like I was trying to save myself from failing or people seeing me struggle, even if neither was true. This anxiety and panic continued into high school, and the amount of tutors only increased. Math tutors, science tutors, reading tutors, you name it, I had it. When the ACT rolled around, I was doing about 10 hours a week of work, which killed my spirit. I felt so low and so unhappy because it never felt like enough, even if my scores were really good.
The funniest part of all of this was I had terrific grades. I always ended with A’s and B’s, but I always found a way to draw attention to my failures rather than successes. No one else dimmed my light except for me. I spent years listening to tutors, peers, teachers, and my parents say, “Carly, you’re doing an amazing job” or “Carly, you’re so bright,” but it always felt like a lie. If I was so good, would I need all of this help? No one else made me feel inferior, but my brain told me I would never be good enough for anyone. I was scared of disappointing my parents, my brothers, and my teachers, but the only person I failed in all of this was me.
I wish I could go back in time and shake myself. To me, asking for help felt like I was failing, and every time I got a bad grade, my brain would instantly tell me that it made sense I was doing so bad because I just wasn’t that smart. The tutors felt like I was sitting on the struggle bus all alone, and there was no final destination. I want all of you to know that there is nothing wrong with needing extra help, and needing help doesn’t mean you are failing. You are what you put into everything, so if you’re giving it your all, it is more than enough. It is okay not to feel good enough, but know you are in charge of your sparkle. I hope you all find your light and shine because you are all stars!
Carly F., Syracuse University
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