Straight-A Student

Throughout my life, I’ve always been driven by an almost relentless pursuit of excellence. As a straight-A student throughout much of primary school, this pursuit was deeply ingrained.

This record of achievement continued throughout the first few years of high school with the exception of PE (gym) where I had an “average” score, which only meant I turned up.

And then in the fourth year of high school, I scored a D for English, meaning “more could be expected”. At the time, I was in the top three students in English, and I was mortified at the score. I never took that report card home to show my parents. Even though they weren’t especially academic themselves (my mum was illiterate), I knew they would have been disappointed, as was I.

But my teacher thought I was cruising along on my own natural skills and could have achieved so much more. He was probably correct, but even so, it was devastating.

Throughout my life, I’ve always wanted “good grades”.

In my working life, I’ve always been disappointed if I didn’t get an “exceeds” or an exceptional performance in my annual appraisals. As a senior manager, I’ve become much more relaxed with that, realizing an exceeds generally meant a pay rise. And when you’re trying to manage a budget, and you have a particular attitude as a manager, you’re less inclined to award an employee with such a result. That said, there have been a couple of occasions in recent years where managers have recommended such an increase, but managers above them have said no. But hey, I have a great job and there are lots of other rewards.

In the last 12 months since my illness, I’ve also been someone who wanted “good grades”.

In my twice-daily blood sugar tests for diabetes, I’ve always wanted to achieve a perfect result, and if I didn’t, I feel annoyed with myself.

When I came out of hospital, a friend stayed with me, and when I burst into tears, I felt a sense of failure. “You’ve always been so perfect in the hospital, you always wanted to be so good,” she said to me, asking me to not be so hard on myself.

Currently, I’m going through the process to renew my funding through the National Disability Insurance Scheme and I’ve had to go through another “report card” process. Last night when I read the report by my physiotherapist, there was much to be applauded, as I’d pretty much achieved and exceeded most of my goals for the year around mobility and rehabilitation.

But there were also moments of disappointment in myself. I still have much to achieve in terms of balance, for example, and I still lack confidence in going out in busy environments, and on uneven surfaces, or when the weather is inclement. I would still lack the confidence to go out into an area or space which I hadn’t researched.

Evn here as I’ve written about my experiences I’ve tried to focus on the positive, and avoid the negative. I still think I’ve been realistic about what’s occured, but I’m conscious I probably haven’t shared the really bad bits either yet.

But you know, that’s all okay.

I’ve realized the importance of balance and self-compassion. While striving for improvement is admirable, it’s equally important to acknowledge limitations and celebrate achievements. This newfound understanding is a valuable lesson that I wish I’d learned sooner.