[Filling the Space is a flexible column where our writers could vent, deconstruct, and work their way around the emotions brought on by TV, films, books, music, and key moments in pop culture. This isn’t meant to be analytical, but instead, a way for us to explore our feelings.]
People are always shocked when I tell them that when I was a little girl, I wouldn’t play outside until I finished all my homework. Neither my mom nor my dad ever forced this idea upon me; in fact, at times, they’d quite literally beg me to take a break. But ever since I was a little girl, I had this perfection streak. Some of it can maybe tie into the OCD I developed later. However, it does stem from this idea of just never wanting to settle and provide something that’s less than otherwise, I can’t enjoy anything else. This belief may be why, every time I hit a streak of burnout, I think about Little Women’s Amy March and the “I want to be great or nothing” quote, delivered perfectly by Florence Pugh.
I also think about Ron Swanson’s “never half a— anything, whole a$s one thing.” My therapist even told me that “neither a B nor a C is a failing grade,” yet in my brain, this continues to be so hard to grasp. Logically, I know that no one will think less of me if I have a typo or make a mistake. I also know that people wouldn’t think less of me if the article itself wasn’t entirely analytical. But in the back of my mind, I get Amy March.
I don’t want to write something that I’m not fully proud of. I don’t ever want to have bad or mediocre days. Amy’s predicament is significantly different than mine, and it’s also easy to understand where she’s coming from within the society they live in. Still, it remains impossible to accept that I can’t achieve perfection, even though I know that I never will.
And in full transparency, somewhere in the back of my mind, my brain is telling me that even writing this article is a cop-out. I’m doing it because I need to fill the quota, so I’m choosing to just whine about how I relate to a quote instead of analyzing it. But another voice inside my head is saying that maybe we should normalize accepting that we’re going to have bad days and good days.
One week, I’ll be proud of every article I write, while during another, I’ll convince myself that in spite of my degrees and experience, every word out of my mouth is entirely useless. (To me, at least, because I know that in the same way, I’d never think this about my peers, they won’t think it about me.) But that’s what this column is for, after all: to bend the rules a little bit, to be vulnerable, to geek out, and just fill the space with our truths.
Can you relate to Amy March in this exact moment? What’s your take on it? Feel free to vent or cry in the comments below.
First Featured Image Credit: ©Sony Pictures