By Aakanksha Sinha | The San Mateo Daily Journal
Not everything is a competition.
That’s an idea I’ve always struggled to wrap my head around. I have lived a decent portion of my life telling myself not only that everything is a competition, but also that I have to excel in every competition.
It was only later that I realized that not everything is a competition. That there’s an art to picking your battles, playing to your strengths, and knowing when to accept defeat. The art lies in recognizing and respecting your authentic self.
As I progressed through high school, the anticipation of college applications only loomed closer. It felt as though everything I did in these four years were somehow the most important and defining moments of my entire life. I suppose to an extent, there is some truth in that sentiment. Whether they know it or not, high school is a time where most people search for identity.
But in the hustle and bustle of the four years, it’s easy to lose sight. It’s easy to lose yourself. Far too often do I hear people signing up for Advanced Placement classes only because “it looks good on college applications,” or commit to an activity they don’t like to show consistency. I know I’ve let myself fall prey to those beliefs too.
The issue doesn’t necessarily lie in the students and their perceptions. Rather, it’s ingraining the idea that a college defines a person that makes us so susceptible to believing and presenting inauthentic versions of ourselves.
Somehow, we recognize what we stand for, but don’t know who we are. We don’t know how to pick our battles, and most of us can’t tangibly express our strengths. We see each other as competition.
Not everyone is competition, but I can’t help feeling otherwise.
We are so intrinsically trapped in our own minds and beliefs that it’s hard to trust that there could be people genuinely rooting for us. From the summer after junior year to late-January and even beyond, it’s all a race. Who gets to the top, and who gets there fastest is all we look at. What we overlook is the how.
How much of what we do is honest to our own interests? With how much certainty can we say that everything we showcase about ourselves to an admissions panel is genuine? How confidently can we say we learned new things simply to learn? Do we even know what our genuine, authentic selves look like?
If I look at my classes and my extracurriculars, I don’t know how I would differentiate myself from every other student in my grade. I doubt anybody could. The biggest thing that makes each of us different is how true we are to ourselves. And at a stage in life where most of us feel like we’re doing things just to do them, we forget who we want to be.
We compete with each other to fit the norm of a “winner,” but we don’t realize that winning is incredibly subjective. It’s not defined by the awards we put on our activities lists, or try to highlight in our applications, because is the prize deserved if we can’t even say with confidence that the work we put into it is reflective of our beliefs, our values, and by extension, ourselves?
So, not everything needs to be a competition. I still struggle to believe that. But we lose ourselves when we see each other as threats rather than resources. We turn learning into a battlefield, fiercely trying to beat each other in needlessly cutthroat environments and ultimately present versions of ourselves we probably can’t even recognize.
Finding authenticity isn’t easy, and I imagine it’s something you only develop over time. But in a time where too many of us are focused on the competition we are surrounded by, taking a step back and reevaluating ourselves and how true we are to ourselves matters.