Growing up, I was taught to be precise, upright, and wise.
Although these principles are harmless, the traits I formed because of them were not. I was inclined to believe that it was my obligation to be at the top of the food chain — to live a perfect life, or not live at all. It ingrained in me the belief that I must either be perfect or not try. After all, an effortless genius always seemed better than the one who struggled.
“At least you tried.”
“Try and try until you succeed.”
To me, those words sounded like pity — full of disappointment and shame. Sometimes they even echoed like insults. They never helped me. They never would.
Entering the highly competitive world of medical school became a self-sabotaging journey for a person like me. But one thing I am grateful for is that I can no longer run away from treating this chronic disease of perfectionism. Today, I am untangling the webs of self-deprecating thoughts and undoing the untrained habits I developed during my younger years.
Through it all, God keeps me going. I once wrote that God did not call me to perfection. He knew I wasn’t perfect — and yet, He called me. By my name.
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Today, He calls me to try. God favors the one who tries, not the effortless genius. He looks upon me as I cry out for perfection and thinks:
“This child is much better than an effortless genius.”
“This child will do great things.”
“If only she knew how perfectly placed she is.”
In medicine, we are conditioned to ask for perfection — because lives are in our hands, right?
But that belief does more harm than healing. It is a misconception — one that pushes us toward fear instead of care. Doctors are not life-givers or life-extenders. We are simply agents of God’s love.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Doctors must never try to play God.
We are called only to show up,
to do our best,
and to try.
