Someone I know recently asked me, “Do you feel like you did enough in high school?” My initial thought was, how could I have done more? I’ve always considered myself to be an overachiever—I take on as much as possible, and being a perfectionist, I obsess endlessly over each responsibility. In my schoolwork, in each of my extracurriculars, I hold myself to the highest standard, which so often leaves me scrambling to complete this and that, endlessly. But before I could fully give my answer, a friend added in, “Socially or academically?”

Oh, right, I forgot about that part.

For so many, academics and responsibilities don’t define high school. Their social life does. My social life was less than ideal for a long time, to say the least. My sophomore year, I barely talked to anyone in school—I had friends, but I lost contact; I drifted away as I spiraled into a constant state of stress. I’ve never considered myself to be an outwardly social person, but I feel as though now I’ve come into more comfort in who I am. I have a small group of friends, people I care for, and people I enjoy spending time with; that’s enough, right?

In the end, the only answer I could give was, “I don’t know.” But that question left me thinking for days, what really constitutes as enough? There will always be this expectation. For the rest of life—I don’t know what it will be—but for high school, I’ve always felt an overwhelming pressure to manage everything perfectly. Academics, extracurriculars, and a social life—all regardless of our individual circumstance. Of course, pressure drives us. It’s what’s pushed me to my own accomplishments. But the fact is that unrealistic expectations only lead to burnout.

In truth, we’re varied. I find it misleading to assign the idea that we must all succeed in every possible manner. There will be areas where I thrive, and areas where I don’t. I’ve never found myself to be an outgoing person, I don’t thrive in the social environment school throws us into. But there are so many other things I love, and that drive me forward. Most notably, I’ve found passion in creativity: I am an artist, a musician, a writer. My academics have fulfilled me just as equally, and each time I succeed it pushes me forward to continue that accomplishment. The resources in high school have led me to achieve. I have taken what I learned about managing my responsibilities, allowing me to now control that overachieving nature I’ve struggled with for years, narrowing down my commitments to what truly fulfills me. Our independent capabilities are what make us who we are, and the person I have become was built from my time in school.

It’s so easy to become consumed with the constant questioning of “did I do enough?” now that we are approaching the end of senior year. The anxieties of could-haves and should-haves overwhelm us, but the fact is, we did. We made it. As we walk across that stage, we carry our pasts with us, but we also step towards an undefined future. So yes, reflect. Reflection is what helps us figure out who we are; without it, we’d be living every day as if it were new. But don’t try to change the past. Failure is something ingrained into the nature of our lives, but our shortcomings in high school don’t define us—they teach us of our limitations. We learn balance in school, both our strengths and faults.

Soon we won’t be seniors, we’ll be graduates. Onto the “next chapter of our lives,” as we’ve so often been told. It’s new, but not a fresh start. We’ll always be the same person, but we can use our experiences to grow. Moving on from what we know is difficult, but not impossible. Use what you know, follow what fulfills you—let your high school experience guide who you are, not stunt it.