It is inevitable that every life is surrounded by other humans. With constant human interaction overwhelming our days, the tendency to observe talents of others while picking apart our flaws is not obscured or uncommon. Therefore the comparison between one's self and those surrounding is inescapable. In this hectic, competitive world the reassurance and validation from others proves to be essential as water to quench the parched ideal of self-worth. To my dismay, self-doubt and insecurities inundate me daily, engulfing me in this innate human phenomenon of possessing a burning desire for praise, encouragement and assurance, which can be observed in my appearance, academic, and athletic aspects of my life.
My initiation into the starving world of craving affirmations presented itself at the precious age of twelve. Combined with the anxieties of the future, the yearning for acceptance, and coming to terms with pubescent changes, I became yet another insecure pre-teen. I found myself aligning with the stereotypical adolescent mind frame of hating everything about my life. How can I ever erase the haunting memories of standing in the shower with tears flowing rhythmically alongside the faucet water, evaluating and detesting my life, and feeling like I was never going to be good enough? It was then I derived the realization that there would always be someone prettier, smarter, more athletic, popular and talented. I had succumb to the voices in my head which undermined my achievements, over focused on my failures, and developed a hindering envy for the successes of others.
Progressing into my teenage years, these feelings continued to consume me, resulting in my self-esteem proving to be non-existent. It was during this time I realized my ability to forge the illusion of self-confidence with ease, although my self-image was unfalteringly negative. Continuing to conform to the stereotypical teenager, I became absorbed with figuring out who I was. The journey of discovering my talents and feeding into this obsession of defining me was exhausting and unproductive. Regardless what I found to be good at, I saw someone who was better and instead of inspiring me, those who were more successful proved to be a discouragement. I told myself I could never be as good as them, which impede my successes. The fear of failure in comparison to the greats crippled many interests and left me craving a niche where I would be recognized, applauded and respected. Forced to find gratification through intangible means, I began to define myself based on marks, coach's praises, and other's perceptions of me.
Throughout my schooling years, I believed that the value of a grade had a direct correlation with the intelligence, worth and success of a person. The way I thought of my peers was solely based on a numeric representation of their knowledge in a subject area, but worse, the way I saw myself became based on these numbers. When I was younger, it was expected and applauded to achieve a minimum eighty percent, and doing so made me ecstatic, until tenth grade. It all began after I attended awards night in October 2014 for achieving honour roll. Indeed, it is quite the accomplishment, but the value of said award was degraded in my mind, since four hundred others had achieved that same award. That night I realized I wanted to be the best in our grade academically and set out in what would be a sickening spiral of obsessive academia. The year that followed involved restless nights, relentless stress, stacks of study notes, and revolving my life around school. It got to a point in December where I would wake up at six am, study at Tim Hortons until eight, attend four classes, study during lunch, stay after school for two to three hours working on homework, break for a two hour soccer practice then study for three to five more hours before getting a mere wink of sleep. I was excelling in my classes, my overall average increasing seven percent from the previous year, but I realized that I was quickly becoming tired, sick and unmotivated. Regardless of the work I put in, I still was not the smartest, and that exasperated me.
For the duration my life, a key defining aspect has been sports, soccer in particular. I've always excelled with a ball at my feet and my skills never fail to impress. Although my impeccable abilities continually improved over my athletic career, my purpose of playing shifted drastically. No longer was I playing for the love of the sport, the adrenaline rush, or to feed my competitive nature, but I was playing to impress my teammates, parents and most importantly my coaches. I hungered for their praises, which shaped how I thought of myself as an athlete. When the praises stopped and harsh criticism took its place, I was distraught, frustrated, and offended. It began with little comments of me needing to run faster or pass to feet. The day my coach yelled at me six different times in one drill, micro criticizing a missed shot and a less than perfect pass, I was ready to walk away from soccer forever.
It's extremely difficult for me to accept how I look when my body doesn't reflect how my mind envisions me. From the glasses resting on my nose to the lack of muscle on my arms, it's not a struggle for me to overanalyze the person I see in the mirror. Many nights I envisioned and wished to look completely different, and dreamed about a better life with my new appearance. It came as a surprise when how I looked began getting an abundance of compliments. Out of the blue, at soccer practice one evening, a teammate asked me if I wore makeup. When I responded with a definitely not, I was surrounded by a congregation of soccer mates, admiring my smooth skin. I was overwhelmed with questions regarding the how's of my look, to which I replied with an underwhelming shrug. In my eyes, the skin's just me, nothing special or to be admired. Practices onwards, teammates continued complimenting my hair, eyebrows, skin and other trivial aspects of my appearance. Although I would love to brush off these positive recognitions as minuscule, they did do wonders for my appreciation of self-appearance, though my negative mindset in regard to my reflection prevailed.
The quest for the world's validation ended when Andie came into my life. Although the progression to getting where we are today has been slow, she's been the much needed support system in my life. Andie is unarguably spectacular at whatever she puts her mind to, which makes her nod of approval mean so much more to me. Her affirmations carry weight like no other, so her applauding an essay I wrote or my efforts in a class is often more important than the grade itself. Andie is the reason I still play soccer, because when I stopped believing in me, she didn't. She was able to refocus my purpose of playing, and with her enthusiastic, proud face in mind, the motivation to play my best and the gratification of doing so is eons better than any coaches pat on the back. In terms of appearance, for once in my life I finally feel comfortable in my skin. It's an indescribable feeling of safety and security, not only because one now constantly validates me, but because Andie allowed me to see what I've been blind to all these years.
I don't think humans are meant to live with the goal of impressing others or gaining the approval and validation of many. If as a society we can divert from competing and comparing ourselves, the seemingly impossible ideal of self-worth will be able to fulfill with great ease. Maybe the goal of life is to find an Andie, a human that doesn't just blindly praise, but removes the blinds to truly see the praise that has been so overlooked and overshadowed. Proving one's worth, or seeking validation to boost one's ideal of self-worth shouldn't be an objective, instead seeking someone who appreciates, acknowledges, and accepts who you are should be.
