As a junior at a highly competitive high school, I am constantly surrounded by role models. One such role model was my friend, who I will call Emily to protect the innocent. On the outside, she seemed to have it all: perfect grades, beauty, kindness, a state qualifying position in an academic club, and a charismatic boyfriend. As I started to get to know her, I was in awe of her perfection. However, I soon discovered that knowledge was a burden. The better acquainted I got with Em, the more the shining halo that I placed around her tarnished. This burden of knowledge weighed heavily upon me; however, it was uplifted and became a benefit when I learned the best role models are never perfect.

Em and I got to know each other through an academic club through which we both competed in the same event. We also shared a chemistry class. I would see Em come in every day to school with her hair and makeup perfectly done, and her clothes immaculate. I think I saw her wear a sweatshirt once to school in the whole year. That, combined with her stellar grades and her top two places each week at the club tournaments led me to make my mind up: this girl was my role model. She seemed so perfect! I strived to get to know her better, not just because of her captivating and kind personality, but also because I strived to be like her. However, the closer I got to Em, the more the burden of knowledge weighed down upon me. As I got to know her better, I discovered the truth: that she was actually depressed, had eating problems, and was in a semi-abusive relationship with someone manipulative. Her seemingly perfect grades were actually tarnished with a C in Honors Physics. Her family life was filled with distrusting parents and egotistical siblings. And her one solace, the academic club in which we both competed, was actually a brutal fight to the top each week. When I learned about these things, these truths of her life, I was completely disenchanted. I bore the burden of the truth, and it crushed me. I had put Emily on a pedestal, thinking her an angel and when I found that she had no wings, it was really difficult for me to accept that she, like the rest of us mortals, couldn’t fly.

Emily’s story taught me an important lesson: no one is perfect. But even though her story was disenchanting for me and left a burden on my heart, I benefitted from it as well. I learned that Em was indeed a true role model, because even with such a messed up personal life, she would come in every day to school with a smile on her face and homework completed. She would listen to my problems and give me advice and be so earnest that it brought tears to my eyes and when she talked to you it was like you two were the only ones in the room. Yes, Em wasn’t perfect. But if she was, then I would have no hope. Em gave me hope, because from this so called burden of the truth, I realized that if Emily was able to pull herself together, I should be able to, as well.

I learned a lot from Emily. Yes, learning the truth about her life did cause me severe disenchantment, but I also benefitted from this burden, as I realized that she was a role model that was actually human. I learned not only from her achievements, but from her mistakes. And for that, I am ever so grateful.