Breaking free from titles

 God knows I want to break free. Break free from the unbearable summer heat and the mosquitoes buzzing around, no matter how welcomed the season is. Break free from the expectation that this should be the most amazing summer. Break free from expectations altogether. Break free from everything I am supposed to be. Break free from everything I haven’t lived up to, which sometimes feels like chains holding me down. Break free from myself. And the list goes on.

As an eldest daughter, from an early age I was conditioned to believe my worth is linked to my academic success. Obviously, this is not exclusive to me or oldest children alone. Many of us entered classrooms with childlike imagination, full of wonder, only to find a new concept. It started with getting pretty flowers and butterflies from our teachers, in our very first notebooks. A year later, it changed into a grading system: 1-5, or 5-10. That system would define our self-esteem and personality traits for the next twelve to sixteen years.

Children who sit at the top desks in the classroom, behave well and get top grades are good. Children who misbehave, sit in classroom corners, and get bad grades are bad, or future troublemakers. Only in recent times, we get to see different educational approaches and measures. Still, for most students, grades rightfully represent much more than a number.

But what happens when the kids grow up? The obsession with grades translates into an obsession with titles. We chase milestones to fill some perfect list. At least milennials invented the participation trophy, so no one feels left out. In all that endless chase, you often forget that you are also a person and that number does not define you.

I am not here to shit on the school system. I’ve spent a good part of my life figuring out how to do exceptionally well in it, and I fell in love with studying. It brought out some of my best and worst character traits during different life periods. However, I am now questioning the very legacy of the system that raised me and my role in perpetuating that legacy.

As someone who prides herself on being competitive and ambitious, I’ve always thrived on getting good grades, and later getting good jobs and promotions. This way of thinking came from early childhood; not just by school or my family, but also by the characters I admired in books and movies at the time. With role models like Hermione Granger and Rory Gilmore (in her early years), I found motivation, validation, and comfort in excelling academically and achieving success.

Also, I have struggled with the idea of failing – every time I would miss a step, get a bad grade or make a mistake, it was like world-ending. I believed I was not good enough or that I would fall behind, as a punishment for the mistake. It is that black-and-white vision of the world that followed me since I left school and into adulthood. Luckily, as growing and learning is maybe one of the best parts of human existence, I am also able to see things as far more complex and NOT THAT SERIOUS. I am able to form a new way of viewing the world.

I am questioning myself and looking at my life and the lives of people around me, some diametrically opposite and some similar, not to judge or measure, but to simply accept all the different directions life can take us and understand the circumstances surrounding them. Through this lens, I see what other people teach me: to care for plants, bake bread, or take myself way less seriously. It’s not about starting something and immediately excelling or competing; it’s about the joy of sharing and learning. You know what that is?

This is not to say I am expecting a 180 change and becoming a totally different person. And if you are into the thrill of chasing titles, good jobs, degrees, and certificates – so be it. I will probably do it as well. But now, in my 30s, behind the chase is also the question of providing comfort, better opportunities, enjoying the rewards of work, and not only living in the pursuit.

In my last workplace, I ended up chasing one position after another and ultimately I noticed everyone around me was so much more excited than me. I was already thinking about how to get to the next level, instead of stopping for a second to enjoy. Or to even ask myself: do I really want this? Do I really need this? Who am I so worried will be let down or disappointed by me? When I realised I couldn’t avoid these questions anymore, everything began to change.

Just like The Bear shows us, it’s about the urgency, the delivery, getting the dish from scraps to the table, and overcoming obstacles. At the same time, it’s about embracing every second and making sure that every moment counts. I am working towards finding this balance, this yin and yang. I still want to do well, but I want to do well for myself, and to make sure that the people around me are well too. All the titles and success mean little without recognising how our support system helps us get there. We are a plethora of different things: emotions, experiences, and circumstances- simply trying to do our best.

So yeah, go out in the world, chase whatever you need to chase, it is only human. But do not forget, and nor will I – you are so much more than a title. So much more than the mistake(s) you make and used to make. So much more than some grade in school and a number on a performance review.

At the end of the day, everyone is just trying to get by. Some manage it better, others struggle more, but we rarely know the full story behind someone’s success or what we might perceive as failure. Instead of judgment, our focus should shift inward, towards ourselves, rather than comparing ourselves to others. Or so a therapist would say. :)

Titles and grades do not define our worth. It is our resilience, growth, the ability to cope, to survive, to laugh – sometimes even at ourselves that makes all the difference and all the success. So, here is a reminder to myself: embrace your journey, celebrate your progress, and remember: every second counts. I don’t know how yet, but I will make sure it counts on my own terms, for my own expectations.

So baby can’t you see? I got to break free.