In the cold, plastic-feeling room of math class, I felt a different kind of dread than the rest of the sleeping, laughing, or silent students did.

I got a 92% on a major test.

I would repeat the figure in my mind until my mouth started flipping through complaints looking for the one to convince my Mom I did horribly. But I couldn’t ever find one. Just a quiet stare back, wondering what I was even trying to say.

Eventually the dread would follow me to every classroom. In history, 100% was ‘average’ or in English, not having my piece chosen as an example, was a clear sign of hatred for my existence from all those around me.

If you liked me, you would have used it.

Because if there isn’t perfection, that means I’m flawed. Deeply too. If others don’t have to study, when I do, and get much better results. I’m lesser than them. Lesser than those who get 75% or F’s, because I knew they hardly paid attention, but still were on the same road, leading to the same diploma. There would be no difference in the papers we’ll be handed that day.

Others would get A’s too, but that was impressive. Jealousy inducing. Mine? I don’t know, a fluke?

Eventually, it became my own eyes looking inward for every flaw in my flaking confidence to pick off. Dead, sunken in eyes, wondering what was this craving I had, that I would logically complete, but emotionally were drowning in.

The issue of perfection, especially across bios and interviews has become a buzzword used for someone disliking mistakes, as we all do, or having slightly higher standards.

But within the halls of rigorous high schools, a pure, naive, and uncontrollable need for validation breathes. The need to know you are worth something and not run of the mill, that people would treasure your existence when you live, and cry when you die. Many seek it through academics, the most prestigious thing, most accessible to the average teen. Honor societies. Teacher compliments. Awards. It expands even beyond school grounds. A post of one desirable body will inflame thousands to millions to destroy theirs: crying, hurting, harming.

Stuck already in the issues of violent mood swings and overexposure to harmful media online, leaves teenagers, us, the inability to veer from these emotions. Bearing the brunt of each strike, wave or phase of criticism directly to our self-worth.

But this issue is unique. Caused by us, a direct result of our minds. Leaving us, and only us, to realize the self-deprecating habits of wanting to find value outside of ourselves. Relieving ourselves from the habit.

Because we get we. And it’s important for your happiness to realize there are others out there. So, there isn’t another sense of incoming loneliness, or ‘weirdness’ for experiencing the things that all of us do, and struggle through. It goes beyond, ‘it’s okay to not be okay,’ but instead, normal.

Your thoughts have to be replaced from the rushing tides of acid, dissolving every argument you make towards contentment, to understanding that your value is physical. That you can make any change for yourself. Your actions. Your words. The smile on your face.

I still stare at that 92%, with bright, inner, and nervous eyes.

Wondering how soon the next, inevitable catapult will launch perfectionism square on to my face.

Editor’s note: This is a new monthly opinion piece featuring takes in and out of the classroom from students at our area high schools. This piece was provided by Helix Charter High School student Mustafa Dost.