When I chose to become a Rice student, I understood the menacing workload I was taking on. Aside from busting my back in COMP 140 to barely understand Python and embarrassing my abuelo with the world’s worst Spanish in linguistics, I have other goals beyond just academic excellence: I want to be more active in the gym, maintain steady contact with friends and family, and join school-sponsored clubs. With so many goals in mind, it’s nearly impossible to maintain perfection in all of these different areas. Oftentimes I’d get all my homework assignments done, hit a ferocious leg day at the gym, and deep clean my room to perfection, yet, I’d forget to call my grandma and consequently felt like a selfish grandson. Despite the many successes I experience throughout my week, I often hyper focus on granule negatives and forget to reflect on my overall weekly experiences–not just the low points. I used to kick myself for not “working hard enough” and normalized the sacrifice of my mental health for unrealistic work standards.

In 11th grade my sister forced me to see a psychiatrist for my anxiety. Despite the low expectations my parents placed upon me in school, I felt internally pressured to financially support my family in the future and achieve scholastic perfection as to not disappoint my educators. It felt like I never had enough time; if I spent an extra hour working with my dad for a little side cash, I wouldn’t be able to help my sister practice her Spanish. It felt like I was constantly driving above the speed limit just to get my daily tasks done. And let me tell you–I crashed a lot. 

For months my younger cousin, Moses, raved about a saxophone solo he earned through consistent hard work. Of course, I promised him that I’d be there because I love seeing people that I love excel, but I forgot that it took place during exam season–on a day where I was taking 2 AP exams and had a Region tennis match. When his 8 PM band concert rolled around, I made it to the grand auditorium and sat down in the front row with my aunt–and promptly fell asleep. I imagine my faint snores harmonizing with the piccolos, exemplifying their sleep-inducing effects. All jokes aside, my younger cousin’s big moment came and he had the pleasure of seeing me passed out front and center. When I was cognizant enough to feel guilt, I apologized repeatedly while bear-hugging him. Although he laughed it off, I could tell he was disappointed. 

I recollect on this embarrassing story to highlight the distinction between accomplishing your goals and actually enjoying yourself. I ended up passing my exams and winning the tennis match, but was unable to to show up to the event that I actually wanted to be at. Since I tightly packed my schedule so as to not disappoint my teachers and sports coaches, I wasn’t able to “smell the roses” nor reap the fruits of my labor. I missed out on parties, quinceaneras, football games, and hangouts because I thought that studying would be a more beneficial use of my time. I felt like a prisoner to my own schedule, and it was only after I learned to be selfish and take control of my happiness that I enjoyed my successes. 

My abuelo cared for 9 kids, tutored children in Spanish, and hosted Sunday school at our local Basilica for the better part of 3 decades. Before he passed, I remember asking him if he regretted putting so much on his plate. Although I was expecting him to say yes, that he wished he had spent more time sipping Modelos and watching football, he responded that because he loved what he did the work didn’t feel as taxing.

Something finally clicked in my brain when he told me that. I thought that I wasn’t feeling fulfilled because I wasn’t working hard enough, but I recognized that the issue lied in what I was investing my time in. I immediately began dropping extracurricular activities that didn’t serve me. I said goodbye to Theatre (not my vibe), volunteering at my local nursing home (geriatrics are mean!), and National Honor Society (no explanation needed). I also said hello to new activities, such as soccer, and cooking–both good destressors and activities that I enjoy.

Having reinvented my schedule, I finally began to sleep feeling like I’d done enough, like I worked hard enough. Of course, I still experience my fair share of low points, but because I enjoy myself more it’s significantly easier to get past small mistakes. I feel inclined to work hard, not because I’m afraid of letting others down, but because I love what I do. After having worked for the benefit of others, I’ve noticed how refreshing it feels to finally put myself first.