“I never feel good enough,” my classmate said. “I always feel like my friends are doing more impressive things than I am. No matter what I do, I always feel inadequate.”
It was the last session of class for the semester, and the tone had become intimate and confessional. The professor nodded. “Okay. Who else feels that way?”
I raised my hand and timidly looked around me. The class was mostly women, including ones I greatly admired – women I had compared myself to before raising my hand. Every single hand was raised.
At that moment, I felt both huge relief and deep sadness. Relief in realizing that I wasn’t alone, and sadness that so many others must feel the same overwhelming pressures that I did to meet an unreachable standard.
The second semester of my junior year, coming back from a semester abroad and feeling isolated…
View original post 939 more words