the dictionary is wrong - redefining success
Disclaimer: this blog post is like really long because I had too much caffeine today so if you're looking for a quick read this ain't it sorry
"But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying" (Wallace 237).
There is a lot of pressure nowadays to achieve. But achieving in itself is not enough. You must display it - but not in a show-offy type of way. It's an art: the type of humble brag that's subtle enough to not be too arrogant, but compelling enough to get the message across. It's the hustle hard, always on the grind idea that permeates so many aspects of our culture.
People complain about how busy their schedule is, but it's not a genuine complaint. Instead its more like a convoluted medal of honor - of proving that you are purposeful, proving your productivity and worth by accomplishing so much.
Let me just say it's very ironic I'm writing this considering that I'm a big hypocrite of this.
It was only last March that I was doing all that I am now condemning. DECA, HOSA, MUN (I only join clubs with acronyms for names apparently) all collided in a spectacular sort of frenzied whirlwind. For the whole month, I had no weekend. Heck, I barely had time to catch a breath during or after school. In class I hurriedly finished the classwork to do homework for another class (to account for the time I'd be absent). I would absorb one teacher's lecture while studying for an upcoming competition. And just as one competition wrapped up, it was onto the next. I say all this not to make you pity me or admire me for being "hardworking."
The thing is, the glory of being on stage for 5 minutes only lasts for so long. 5 minutes and it's over. 5 minutes and it's back to the grind and hustle and laborious process of proving over and over again.
Did I enjoy getting awards? Well, my ego certainly didn't hurt. But in the in-between moments of exhaustion, there was always this impending sense of doom. The idea that the shoe could drop anytime (did I use that idiom correctly? hopefully). There were moments where I felt like I couldn't breathe.
The question is: what was I doing this all for?
I guess I thought that at some point, confidence would naturally come. If I ever felt insecure or nervous about my talents I could easily point back to a previous competition I'd won to validate myself. And on some logical level, this makes sense. The idea that if you succeeded one time, you'll be likely to do it again. But that assurance never came. Instead, the stakes of proving myself were only raised higher.
Since I went to Internationals last time, if I don't get to it this time, it'll only be humiliating. Since I got this award last time, I have to get it again or else I'm a failure.
To be honest, no one frickin cared about what I did or achieved but I was too caught up to see that. Part of the reason why I felt this way was because of the irrational thinking that comes with Imposter Syndrome (look it up, it's fascinating). But the main reason was because I was defining myself by the wrong reasons. The burnout finally came to a head at the very end of March. I was tired, hungry, and over caffeinated. Somewhere in the mess of awards and competition and burnout, my identity had become wrapped up in my accomplishments. I had spent all this time chasing success without stopping to define what success really meant to me.
A month later, I went to Florida for DECA. This was one of my last competitions of the year. And let me be the first to tell you, I didn't do great. After doing subpar in both my test and presentation, I knew I had no chance of placing (like the type of bad you can't even convince yourself you did good bad). And yet, when the time for the awards ceremony came, my usual nervousness was noticeably absent. As I shifted in my seat, waiting for my category to be called, I felt weirdly calm. I had finally accepted that all of this *motions hands weirdly to indicate competition* didn't define me or even inform an ounce of who I am. For the first time, in a good while, I felt free.
Nowadays, I still compete in all those competitions (yes, that makes me the biggest hypocrite ever). But the motivation behind it has changed. I don't do it for the clout or the validation. Instead, whenever I'm competing I always try to keep in mind why I joined the activity in the first place. And usually that comes down to something as simple as "it's fun!" or, "I like this." The happiness of being free doesn't compare at all to the happiness of a stupid award. And honestly I'm not perfect at doing this, but when I look back and see how far I've come, I think I can say it's the most meaningful success I've had.
"But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying" (Wallace 237).
There is a lot of pressure nowadays to achieve. But achieving in itself is not enough. You must display it - but not in a show-offy type of way. It's an art: the type of humble brag that's subtle enough to not be too arrogant, but compelling enough to get the message across. It's the hustle hard, always on the grind idea that permeates so many aspects of our culture.
Enjoy this gif from Blackish (I love that show)
People complain about how busy their schedule is, but it's not a genuine complaint. Instead its more like a convoluted medal of honor - of proving that you are purposeful, proving your productivity and worth by accomplishing so much.
Let me just say it's very ironic I'm writing this considering that I'm a big hypocrite of this.
It was only last March that I was doing all that I am now condemning. DECA, HOSA, MUN (I only join clubs with acronyms for names apparently) all collided in a spectacular sort of frenzied whirlwind. For the whole month, I had no weekend. Heck, I barely had time to catch a breath during or after school. In class I hurriedly finished the classwork to do homework for another class (to account for the time I'd be absent). I would absorb one teacher's lecture while studying for an upcoming competition. And just as one competition wrapped up, it was onto the next. I say all this not to make you pity me or admire me for being "hardworking."
The thing is, the glory of being on stage for 5 minutes only lasts for so long. 5 minutes and it's over. 5 minutes and it's back to the grind and hustle and laborious process of proving over and over again.
Did I enjoy getting awards? Well, my ego certainly didn't hurt. But in the in-between moments of exhaustion, there was always this impending sense of doom. The idea that the shoe could drop anytime (did I use that idiom correctly? hopefully). There were moments where I felt like I couldn't breathe.
The question is: what was I doing this all for?
I guess I thought that at some point, confidence would naturally come. If I ever felt insecure or nervous about my talents I could easily point back to a previous competition I'd won to validate myself. And on some logical level, this makes sense. The idea that if you succeeded one time, you'll be likely to do it again. But that assurance never came. Instead, the stakes of proving myself were only raised higher.
Since I went to Internationals last time, if I don't get to it this time, it'll only be humiliating. Since I got this award last time, I have to get it again or else I'm a failure.
To be honest, no one frickin cared about what I did or achieved but I was too caught up to see that. Part of the reason why I felt this way was because of the irrational thinking that comes with Imposter Syndrome (look it up, it's fascinating). But the main reason was because I was defining myself by the wrong reasons. The burnout finally came to a head at the very end of March. I was tired, hungry, and over caffeinated. Somewhere in the mess of awards and competition and burnout, my identity had become wrapped up in my accomplishments. I had spent all this time chasing success without stopping to define what success really meant to me.
A month later, I went to Florida for DECA. This was one of my last competitions of the year. And let me be the first to tell you, I didn't do great. After doing subpar in both my test and presentation, I knew I had no chance of placing (like the type of bad you can't even convince yourself you did good bad). And yet, when the time for the awards ceremony came, my usual nervousness was noticeably absent. As I shifted in my seat, waiting for my category to be called, I felt weirdly calm. I had finally accepted that all of this *motions hands weirdly to indicate competition* didn't define me or even inform an ounce of who I am. For the first time, in a good while, I felt free.
Nowadays, I still compete in all those competitions (yes, that makes me the biggest hypocrite ever). But the motivation behind it has changed. I don't do it for the clout or the validation. Instead, whenever I'm competing I always try to keep in mind why I joined the activity in the first place. And usually that comes down to something as simple as "it's fun!" or, "I like this." The happiness of being free doesn't compare at all to the happiness of a stupid award. And honestly I'm not perfect at doing this, but when I look back and see how far I've come, I think I can say it's the most meaningful success I've had.
You after reading this.
Loved your usage of gifs (jifs?). Sometimes, I feel like we just all need to calm down and remember why we are doing these types of things in the first place. The pressure gets to us sometimes, some more often than others. It's times like those where we need to probably take a nap and just take a break from the world. Really liked your character development and your new definition of success.
ReplyDeleteWow, I never expected a blogpost to be so entertaining yet kinda deep at the same time. I loved the subtle jokes added and the gifs/memes. These things make the post enjoyable to the point where you don't even notice the lengthiness. I also like how in-depth you went in your post by closely relating it to your own life and personal experiences.
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