What makes me, me? A stick of eyeliner, an infinite love for all things chocolate, and an unwavering addiction to Korean dramas. Perhaps a deep appreciation for a bowl of laksa, secret admiration of pop songs, and adoration of red flowers.
I remember myself in second grade, biting a kid for using my pencil. In sixth grade, making the boy who liked me cry, and in eight grade, rejecting the same boy on Valentines Day. In high school, stressing over friendships and AP Biology. Transitioning to the present, some things haven’t changed. I’m still the girl who can’t sleep if her homework isn’t completed, the one who stays up studying for an insignificant quiz. I have a low pain tolerance, a big appetite, and an easy laugh. And although I no longer bite, I have the same stubborn streak I had as a kid.
In my short lifetime of 17 years, I’ve learnt that character counts, and family matters. I’ve learnt how to dissect a squid, memorized the internal structure of a plant, and become minimally proficient in Spanish. I’ve quoted Shakespeare, read Faulkner, and tolerated Dostoevsky. But none of this is enough.
It’s not enough to go through the motions, to color within the lines. There’s a point when completing homework – typed and double-spaced of course – becomes redundant, a speck in the big picture of life. I was doing everything right, building up the “me” that would go on my college application, yet somewhere along the way fear entered the picture. Traveling on the narrow road of responsibility, each passing year brought on more pressures, more opportunities to fail. I became focused and absorbed with my impending future. I did what I did for fear of failure – fear of falling behind and never being able to catch up again.
Now I realize there’s so much more to life. There’s the simple pleasure that comes when a stranger holds open the door, or better yet when a friend gives you a hug after a long day. When you come home for break and find your mom cooking your favorite dinner. Of course, I’m still subject to those past pressures and I still crave that 4.0 GPA. But the difference is I no longer do it because of fear.
Life isn’t about finding yourself; it’s about creating yourself.
So why do I do what I do? To create a better version of myself.
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