Realizing That We Can't Always Please People

Photo by Ba Tik from Pexels

I made peace with the fact that death is inevitable and comes unexpectedly. I was just made aware that I’m practically dying. The timer started the day I was born, and now I know that.

What I did not know, and I did not approve of in the first place, was the lifelessness that I would feel, even when I’m still alive.

I’m talking about: having no control and essence in your life. People determining what is right for you, and what is not, what you should do, and what you should stay away from. There exist this social construct, wherein you would have to reform your pentagonal shape to fit into a quadratic hole because it’s what the normal is.

I had to deconstruct myself in the approval of people. There were times in my life when I went below their level of expectations, and then, in a snap of a finger, I equated to nothing.

I used to be no one in high school after I wasn’t announced for the first time as an honor student. I would skip classes, not talk to people (or them talking to me, then they eventually, shut me out). Just let a day slipped and do nothing about it.

I didn’t know it, but I’m pretty sure back then I was low key depressed. I was constantly thinking of the thought of dying. I didn’t have anyone else to talk to. Easy to conclude: I wasn’t exactly in a good place during those times.

I changed after 9th Grade, A.K.A the first push of encouragement during my teenage life. I became, just like any other, a competitive student.

I would put on the work, and study really hard on tests-- just so I would be declared as the highest. I would count my grades the same manner I counted my calories: voraciously. I needed to be on top every single time. When I wasn’t, I would punish myself by subconsciously bullying me into believing, “She’s smarter than you, thank you for trying.” This would make me angry and arrogant.

With my life I wasn’t contented. The American Dream enforces the idea that you have to work twice or thrice as hard. There was always room for more for anything. There is no such thing as “You had enough,” because why then would people still not be impressed with your success, why would they still not want to tolerate you?

“I have to do this again for people to like me even more,” this is what I used to say right after receiving a coveted honor or achieving a successful week run(that’s right I kept track). Success and recognition preceded me. The urge to always be the best was what nudged me into a heartbreak weather environment

I did what they asked me. I reached the summit of my academic life.

The truth of wanting success is that whatever you do, you are still not meeting 1-3 criteria, and it is impossible to. Teachers always say that if you work hard enough for a goal, when it is achieved, you will flutter with fulfillment. I never, not even remotely, felt fulfilled with what I did at school. Nothing ever satisfied me.                      

“You’re at #1 position, again! Yehey,” and after that sugar rush release of serotonin, 2 minutes later I feel nothing but a need for more.

 In my head I was aimlessly drifting, like trudging on a lazy afternoon.I wanted to be happy. I was always told to loosen up and stop caring about my grades; does happiness really have to be flunking in school? I didn’t want that for myself. Same on that topic, what do I really want? What is something that I want to succeed in without hurting myself?

All I knew, was that if I keep going the same route, with the same pacing, and the same goal: to impress people, I would barely make it out alive.

I knew that I wasn’t benefiting from this, people were. My groupmates depended on me, like drapes to a flimsy stick. My parents expected too much from me, more than what I am sanely capable of. Lastly, it was my own ego, who convinced me that I was the best at anything. That I quote-unquote, “mattered more than anyone else.”. I planted the idea in my head, watered it every day because I was fooled to believe that I could pick apples the time it’s fully grown, turns out it was never a tree, just grass.

All this time, I have been trying to convince everyone, how much of a great person I am, by presenting to them my achievements. I poured the dignity and respect out of me.

Do this; do that; not the way you do it; why can’t you be more like her?

Answer me this, how can I more like myself? I don’t even know who that is yet! Every time that I am blinded by the thought of being approved, the more I feel empty. People are amused by you but your appraisal to your self: Not good enough.

I am weak, mediocre, unwanted, unworthy, tragic, and first to be eaten in a stampede

Human as we are, have two coinciding nature: The Archer, The Prey.

We build our egos from applause, and we’re the fastest and strongest force to deteriorate it using both the BOOS and self-sabotage.