From the moment I entered the now overly-familiar halls of LM, everyone told me to “enjoy this year—it only gets harder from here.” During my freshman year, I recognized that the pace of life seemed sped up. More work than middle school, more interpersonal politics, more activities outside of school, less time for myself. I was experiencing more pressure, more responsibility than ever before, slowly accepting that this rhythm would continue each year until I retire.
Year after year, obsession over college grew exponentially. Everybody in my grade, including myself, seemed to only care about the work they put in and the instantly gratifying results that followed: fancy titles, certifications, varsity letters, leadership positions. I was merely a cog in the wheel of LM’s over-competitive, obsessive grind culture—chasing CommonApp successes, not self-actualization.
In modern times, modes of relaxation have fundamentally changed among adolescents. Reels instead of art, TikTok instead of hobbies, abusing screens to fill free time, mere distractions from day-to-day life which amount to no enduring change. I regrettably fell into the scrolling trap. Countless hours of my free time were spent on my phone. As the work and stress ramped up, the appeal of wasting my free time became too tempting. Looking back, I’ve realized this common trope is no way to live.
Flash forward to this year, I was on a family vacation to the Netherlands right as I was at the peak of writing my countless essays for colleges, as well as polishing my Common Application until it had no flaws. All I could think about as I walked the cold, rainy streets of Amsterdam was my high school experience, and if I did enough: enough work, enough extracurriculars, enough volunteer hours to accomplish my goals. I had just submitted an early admission application, and while my results were out of my control, they still dominated my thoughts. Eating was difficult. Enjoying the wonders of a beautiful country thousands of miles away seemed irrelevant.
Convinced that the stress mounting on my shoulders was now a permanent part of adult life, I accepted it as a constant—something to work around, or motivation to be my best self. With that mindset, I entered a restaurant with my parents to meet with some of my father’s friends. One of these friends, a British physician, explained in vulgar language that “everyone is always taught to maintain their work-life balance. It just isn’t true. Whatever is stressing you out can’t be worth it.”
Whatever club position you feel is absolutely essential to your college application may not be worth the stress. There is only so much you can do, so many hours in the day, so much you can add to your application. If I could make one change, one alteration to my lifestyle during high school, I would prioritize myself, my mental health, getting enough sleep, doing what I genuinely want to do—prioritizing the quality of my life rather than my work. “To hell with a work-life balance, you need a life-work balance,” my newfound friend advised.
With all the AP classes, extracurriculars, and high expectations, LM has a serious epidemic of associating self-worth with college applications. While it is important to remain diligent and foster a successful future, the stress can become smothering. Too often I found myself getting less than five hours of sleep, dozing off during class, putting off important self-care, and losing track of what matters. And from what I’ve discussed with my peers, I’m not the only one.
High school may seem like an eternity, but it isn’t. If I could do it all over again, I’d pick up more hobbies and enjoy my free time without any screens. I wouldn’t allow grades to maintain the constant mental dominance that tortured me all four years. Looking back, my time in high school hasn’t surmounted to what I had expected when I first started—something I will likely regret in my future. If I had to leave rising LM students with any advice: don’t work yourself too hard, prioritize your life-work balance, and—most importantly—prioritize yourself.
