It's everywhere I go. Teachers, relatives, friends, even books and the media remind me of it day after day, and there’s no escaping it.

It’s the idea that somehow we at Uni are a superior bunch of individuals. That somewhere along the way there was some drive in us that made us the motivated, ambitious, smart, “overachieving” students that we are today. And, frankly, this idea scares me to death.

I never thought of myself as anything special growing up. I wasn’t in the smartest of the smart groups in school, and I didn’t really think much of it. I was always in one of the higher groups, but never at the top.

Then all of a sudden something happened and around the age of 9, teachers started placing me in the “advanced” groups. I felt I had to prove myself to maintain that standing and unknowingly did extra work to stay ahead.

At the same time I was doing two or three extracurriculars a day. This didn’t strike me as anything out of the ordinary — many of my friends had similar schedules, and my parents kept signing me up for more and more.

“Maritza, just give it a try this year, and if you don’t like it then you don’t have to continue; you don’t want to miss out on any opportunity,” my mom would say every time she proposed a new activity to add to the list, be it cooking classes, ski lessons, or basketball.

I was used to this, having done ballet, soccer, swimming, tennis, and girl scouts for years already, starting as early as 2 years of age for some of my activities. At this point in my life I would resist my mom’s efforts when she pressed me to join something new but, somehow, I ended up “trying” it all.

I didn’t mind so much. These things were fun for me, and I met a lot of friends through my activities. I wasn’t aware that there were some kids in my class who didn’t do any of the stuff I did; I always assumed everyone was as busy as I was.

So add to this structure a reason to work hard in school, too. I wasn’t about to allow myself to fall behind the other students in my accelerated groups, not until I’d tried everything to keep up. I found that this wasn’t a problem. I could do the work my peers could and, not only that, I could do it well. It soon was not enough to simply keep up; I had to be the best.

Around the age of 10 I began to push myself harder. A 100 wasn’t acceptable, I needed that 110 percent. And more often than not I would kill myself over an assignment that was already much more than the teacher had asked for just to beat someone in my class and get extra credit points the teachers hadn’t even announced. I was a perfectionist.

When my parents came into my room late at night to tell me to go to sleep I would turn off the lights and do homework under my covers with a flashlight, and then set my alarm an hour earlier to get up and do even more work.

My fifth-grade teacher must have noticed that I was taking things too far because he mentioned to both me and my parents that I should try to relax a little and tone things down a bit. He suggested yoga. I shrugged this off — I thought I could handle everything, and I didn’t have time for yoga.

Never did I think things could have been different. Not only was I doing really well in school, but I had developed a reputation of “the perfect student.” Whenever a classmate found out what he or she got on an assignment that student would compare themselves to me, just waiting for the day he or she had outscored me. This inevitably drove me to do better: I couldn’t let my reputation slide! I had to beat everyone every time.

What I didn’t realize was that I was setting expectations for myself that would be impossible to maintain. My parents, teachers, and peers assumed I would always get A++'s, and if I did anything less than that they would give me shocked faces and disapproving looks. I couldn’t take that. I had to please everyone. Little did I know I was setting the tone for the rest of my life.

I should mention that this whole time there wasn’t any major thing I was working toward. I didn’t know about Uni until a month before I applied, and I never thought I would be talented enough to get into any good colleges. The work I was doing was purely because I wanted to live up to what everyone around me assumed came naturally.

I kept up multiple activities every day because I really enjoyed doing everything. In fact, because of the amount I did growing up, nowadays I must have a packed schedule in order to feel like my life is normal. Despite what people might think, I don’t do the extracurriculars I do because I want to impress colleges; I do them because I really enjoy them. I love being busy and being on the inside of things. Stress is just an inevitable side effect.

Today I still have to deal with the bar I threw over my head seven years ago. Everyone expects me to do well all the time, as unrealistic as that is. Yet what drives me most of all are the expectations that I have for myself. I’ve always entertained the idea that I was inferior to those around me and that I therefore have to work harder to achieve what comes easy to them.

I think a lot of my peers could testify that it’s not easy pushing yourself so hard all the time. Something that especially bugs me is the reputation I’ve built for myself. I can’t be perfect all the time! No one can. So when I don’t perform perfectly on something it doesn’t help that all the jaws around me drop: I guarantee you that I’m already beating myself up over it more than you could even try to.

This idea that we’re all “overachievers,” “elite,” and “gifted” drives me crazy. Sure, I like to feel special as much as the next guy, but having those labels makes me feel like I’m treading on ice all the time.

It’s not fair to make someone think they aren’t allowed to mess up, and I think schools, parents, and society force students to think perfection is attainable and that everyone must strive to obtain it. And not only that, but nothing is ever good enough. If you reach your goals you must set new ones and work to achieve those and so on.

These notions and expectations drive me insane, but I know that I will continue to work myself to death attempting to do everything. Whether or not that was how I was born I will never know, but it’s how society has changed me.