My Advice to Me 5 years ago. by Jeremy
Jeremy's entry into Varsity Tutor's July 2025 scholarship contest
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My Advice to Me 5 years ago. by Jeremy - July 2025 Scholarship Essay
If I could offer one piece of advice to my past self, it would be simple: “You don’t have to carry everything at once.”
Back in high school, there was a week I took pride in calling the busiest of my life—four exams, a swim meet, club deadlines, and late nights finishing a group project where I ended up doing most of the work. I told myself I could handle it all, that pushing through was just what I did. And I did—barely. I aced the exams, hit a personal record in the pool, turned in everything on time. From the outside, it looked like success.
But inside, I was unraveling. I couldn’t focus. I barely slept. I remember presenting in front of the class and feeling my vision blur—not from nerves, but from sheer fatigue. When someone asked how I managed it all, I laughed and said, “Just work harder.” It wasn’t a joke. I believed it.
At the time, I wore burnout like a badge. I thought saying yes to everything made me driven, unstoppable. But looking back, I see the flaw in that mindset. My refusal to pause didn’t make me stronger—it made me brittle. I wasn’t afraid of hard work; I was afraid of slowing down.
And yet, that moment wasn’t a failure. It was a turning point. Because even though I pushed too far, I came out of it with something more valuable than a perfect GPA or another line on my résumé. I learned that resilience doesn’t always mean pushing—it sometimes means pulling back.
Since then, I’ve redefined what achievement looks like. It’s not about being the last one to leave or the first to finish. It’s about showing up fully, with intention and presence. I still aim high, still take on challenges—but now, I do so with boundaries. I’ve learned to say no when needed, to ask for help when it matters, and to rest without guilt.
So if I could go back, I wouldn’t erase that week. I’d let it play out exactly the same—but I’d be there afterward, to tell myself: You don’t need to prove your worth through exhaustion. You already have it. Strength is knowing when to push—and when to protect your peace.
That lesson didn’t make me any less ambitious. It made me more human. And in being more human, I became more capable—not just of achievement, but of joy, connection, and sustainability.
That’s the advice I’d give: You don’t have to carry it all. Just carry what matters. And that’s more than enough.