What was supposed to be a simple, paper-related consultation with my professor many months ago turned into a heart-to-heart talk about how I had been coping with the semester. Instead of holding my essay in my hands, I awkwardly dabbed at my eyes with some tissue and admitted that I didn’t feel that I was doing as well compared to my block mates. At the time, the admission seemed ridiculous. While aiming for honors, I was doing my best to balance my duties as a writer, course representative, and a good friend to my peers. One would think that I had too much on my plate, but to me, it simply wasn’t enough.
After managing to adjust to the fast-paced Atenean lifestyle in my first year, the following year contained many more questions and possibilities than I had even started to consider. My friends were talking about applying for minors and double majors, while others had already started their applications for Junior Term Abroad (JTA). The doubt had long been planted, and the roots were starting to wrap around my self-esteem. When a group of friends goaded me into applying for the Creative Writing minor I had my eye on ever since entering college, all I could do was force a smile. Lying through my teeth, I answered that I was still considering it, but all I wanted was to run away from the topic as much as possible.
Not being as ambitious, creative, or hardworking as my block mates daunted me. The thought was there; it hovered nastily as I found myself sinking into a deeper state of discontentment. Whatever I had managed to achieve ever since stepping into the Ateneo suddenly felt more insignificant compared to what my peers were able to accomplish. As time passed, their achievements were sky-high in my eyes. A number of them had started to work on their minors, while some were a step closer to landing their dream JTA schools. Friends of mine became project heads, while others already knew what they wanted to do for thesis. All of this and more swiveled around my head. Time to time, I ended up asking myself: “What have you done?”
The habit of comparison is toxic. I didn’t realize the extent of its toxicity and simply chalked it up to my competitive nature. It started with comparing grades and ended with doubting whether or not I still deserved to be in my chosen course. It manifested through second-guessing, doing more than I could handle, and dismissing any compliment that would come my way. It came to the point of burnout and exhaustion, and I wanted so badly to believe that I was doing enough. By then, however, the damage had already been done.
Upon greeting my professor at the start of the consultation, she noticed that I looked on edge, and that I seemed more nervous than usual. After I admitted what had been happening, she looked me in the eye and told me that all my efforts thus far were indeed worthwhile. I was doing more than enough. Perhaps it was time to pause and take some time for myself.
At present, the habit hasn’t disappeared. The doubt in my head continues to poke around, but I’ve somehow managed to keep it at bay. My peers continue to be successful in their own endeavors, and I cheer them on from the sidelines. Perhaps one day, I would be able to do the same for myself.
