Keegan Blain, 2016 Level 3, Second Place

Dear Ellen Hopkins,

Last year I read your book Perfect, and I was absolutely stunned by how much I could relate with it. I mean, I’m not an anorexic pageant queen or a baseball player on steroids, but I have lived my whole life telling myself to be perfect. After I read this book, I looked at everything in a whole new light.

As a freshman in high school, my life is made up of one thing: grades. Now, I am not new to this academic anvil constantly hanging over my head, mind you. And it never mattered the season or time of day. I’ve always strived for perfection, ever since the early years of elementary school. Unlike my classmates or younger siblings, I was never
reminded to do my homework, or try harder on the spelling test. This constant struggle for perfection and a natural motivational drive has gotten me two grade levels ahead in math, straight A’s all through middle school, a spot in a national talent competition, two school spelling bee wins, and a self-fundraised path to a three weeks Europe sans
parents. I’ve never known anything but, well, perfect. Little did I realize that this lifestyle could come with consequences. I didn’t even make it to high school before I experienced the inevitable backlash of habitual perfection.

Midway through eighth grade, everything caught up to me. I was stressed beyond belief trying to keep up with everyone and everything going on around me. I began to sink into depression and started having extreme suicidal thoughts, but I thought it was normal. I told myself that every successful person thinks these things, acts like this, or feels like that. On the outside I was the same fun loving, bright, and happy girl. But inside I could feel myself slowly crumbling. By Christmas Eve I found myself at a behavioral health center. I would spend the next nine days trying to pull myself back together and figure out how I could hold my head up in front of my parents and friends again. During those life changing days is when I decided to pick up your book.

I remember one quote specifically that really made me think. “Transformation isn‘t easy when most of the people in your life think you’re already perfect, and want you to stay just how they see you.” I couldn’t agree more. When I was reading your book during those frigid winter days in the residential treatment center, I was dreading my return to my outside life. I couldn’t stop thinking about my parents, my friends, my little brother, my boyfriend. They all knew me as the carefree student who could go anywhere in life. How could I go back to that life? Where was that girl that everyone loved? Did she ever even exist? How could I ever know? But there was one thing I did know for sure; I could not go on living the way I had been before the center. Transformation was critical, I just had to figure out how the transformation could happen.

I was most enthralled by the character Kendra Mathieson. Her struggle was not for the same perfection as mine, but it really woke me up. Near the beginning of the story she says “I grew up knowing I was pretty and believing everything good about me had to do with how I looked.” I related to that, except in terms of brains. I thought that my test grades and exam scores defined who I was, and it was warping my view of everything and everyone else. At the end of the book, when the characters are all brought together at Conner’s funeral and see the emaciated Kendra, I got the full extent of what her story was saying. If I got too caught up in my vision of perfection, I would probably end up back here in RTC, and definitely for longer than a measly nine days.

With my new view of my situation, I packed up and went home, mentally preparing myself for the enormous task ahead of me. But there was a newfound confidence in my situation. Not only had I identified and addressed my dangerous addiction to educational perfection, but I had found a new author that seemed to understand me without even knowing I exist.

Ms. Hopkins, your book Perfect changed my life. I now can understand and accept the fact that perfection is nice, but not ideal. It’s as addictive as any illegal substance out there, and can drive anyone to borderline insanity in its pursuit. As I approach the one year mark of my leaving the behavioral health center, I am proud of this new girl I have become. A year ago, I wasn’t sure if this smart, confident, fun-loving girl had ever truly existed, or if she was just a facade for others to admire. Now I realize that even if she hadn‘t ever existed before, she does now. I‘m not sure if I could ever express enough gratitude for your writing and the effect it’s had on my life. It’s changed the way I see myself and the rest of the world, and that critical change could not have come any sooner.

Sincerely,

Keegan Blain