I had spent seven years training in singing, acting, and dancing- all for nothing, it seemed. I had slaved over my AP Human Geography class, spending hours and hours studying- all for nothing, it seemed. I found out, within a few weeks of each other, that I had not made it into either of the auditioned Lone Peak High School Musical Theatre classes and I had not passed my AP exam. I remember sitting in the drive-thru of a Costa Vida, waiting for a pork burrito, and for the day I would no longer feel like a failure. I would say to myself, "If I had only studied harder..." or, "If I had only practiced more..." But I had studied and practiced hard, putting in more time than most of my peers, it seemed. I could not understand why hard work did not equal success. That had always been the formula told to me. If you put in time and energy, success would soon follow. But it did not. Instead, it was followed by tears and frustration. I remained stuck in a cycle of self-loathing. It wasn't until one day when I was mechanically going through my ballet class that my teacher reminded me to "work harder, not smarter". It was one of her mantras I had ignored because, no matter how taxing, I would rather exhaust myself for the sake of completing a task. But after those four words, it was like my brain paused. Almost like a movie montage, I rapidly played the hours I wasted studying without actually learning, the hours I wasted practicing a song without applying the correct technique. I also played through times I had (falsely) succeeded by depleting myself over a simple task. I had cried over a simple art project that was meant to be a benchmark of my progress rather than a middle school version of "Starry, Starry Night." In Spanish, I chose to memorize a page-long monologue of everything we had learned in that unit despite only needing to understand a few concepts in the curriculum. It struck me- I was afraid of failure. I preferred an energy deficit rather than risk not doing enough. My perfectionism had bled into every part of my life, causing me to drown in a sea of shortcomings. I tried to make every effort my best effort. The result was mediocrity in many things. My ballet teacher challenged my then-fixed mindset of hard work and success. She opened my eyes to the concept of balance. Now, I conquer whatever comes my way equitably.  I still strive for perfection, but my definition has shifted. I do not need to give every task the same intensity, each task requires varying intensities. "Work smarter, not harder". I strive for realistic perfection, one that includes failures, shortcomings, and growing experiences. A perfection that pushes me to do my best instead of pushing me to my breaking point. Today, I shine as a strong member of the Lone Peak Productions Company and have passed my latest AP exams. I still face troubles and have to remind myself of my teacher's advice. I recently auditioned for Lone Peak's production of Les Miserables, training hard for the chance to play Eponine. I worked relentlessly until auditions came. When they did, I shared my passion for the art and the role. It was euphoric. I had never felt so confident in my abilities. Unfortunately, I did not get the part. I struggled against my spiteful urges- feelings of anger towards my directors and jealousy of the girl they cast. But within a few days, clarity came to me. I had done my best and knew that success was coming, even if that meant I had to patiently prepare for my chance in the spring musical.