I’ve spent the majority of my college life preoccupied with food, and I would argue that is a common trait among Boston College students. Food is at the center of some of our most treasured BC memories—going to White Mountain during orientation, getting Crazy Dough after a night out, and enjoying tailgate feasts. 

Unfortunately, food can also be at the center of our most negative experiences. Students compare meal plan balances to see who’s eaten the least, obsessively go to the gym six times a week, and use poor dining hall quality as an easy excuse to sip meals. The perfection BC students strive for academically and professionally often seeps into our relationships with food and our bodies. Girls often discuss dieting before big events like spring break, and boys openly offer each other unsolicited advice on macros in the dining hall.

Comparison is part of the perfectionism problem at BC. It is nearly impossible to escape the pressure to be perfect, even in food settings. In our medium-sized setting, campus becomes very small very fast, and as a result, we compare ourselves academically, socially, and professionally. Sometimes I watch “Day In My Life at BC” videos on TikTok where students meticulously showcase busy days packed with three classes, fueled by two small meals, followed by a long workout, and capped off with a night out in a big group of friends.

Our sense of achievement at BC is skewed—we believe we must be perfect in every aspect of our lives. This ideology can poison us in unexpected ways. For me and many others, perfectionism and comparison manifests in almost everything we do. 

I have been ritualistic with my food and exercise habits in the past. For someone who has always claimed to struggle with math, I sure become a mathematician when it comes to calculating macros. I put meticulous effort into ensuring nothing strays from my carefully crafted plans. But now, studying abroad challenges this with constant travel and more freedom in my academic day.

The unknown variables of establishing a new routine are scary. My time spent in the gym has become less about obsessively getting my steps in on my favorite treadmill on the fourth floor of the Plex, and more about exploring new ways of moving my body. There are no mirrors in the gym here, which creates an odd but relieving sense of anonymity.

Similarly, while I’ve been abroad, I’ve spent less time in grocery stores pouring over nutrition labels and more time discovering new brands and foods. While I was initially scared, learning to embrace change has provided me with the gift of flexibility. This new experience navigating the unknowns of food and exercise has taught me something about the broader nature of superficial achievements.

Here, no one knows what grades each other gets on each essay or what summer internships are lined up. In fact, first and second-year students in the Scottish university system are only graded pass/fail. I overhear far less talk about investment banking, GPAs, and exam scores. When I go to the gym, I don’t see the same people every day, obsessively completing their routines like I do at BC. 

Even when I’m with the friends I have made abroad, we never discuss our grades, judge what bars other people go to, or critique each other’s wellness routines. Because of the unknowns of our interactions, we focus on the things that matter—getting to know each other, our families, life at home, and life here. There is less communicated comparison within the student body—perhaps because of the school’s large size, or maybe because of an unknown variable that makes BC students more goal-oriented. 

While consistency is important in achieving long-term goals, BC veers on the edge of toxic emphasis on results. We tend to always look to the ends—the internship, the final grade, the post-graduation plan. We have a hard time going off plan. Yet, embracing the unknowns along the way is equally valuable. We’re not all fatefully predetermined to be successful as long as we get an A on that one essay or lose that extra five pounds. But one thing is certain: We’ll never be satisfied if we continue focusing on achieving more than each other and lose sight of connection in the process.