When I was three, I found that my furniture was a great spot to get my daily dose of parkour, and I routinely did backflips off my couches. When I was seven I blasted my hand through my backdoor’s window partially because the door was jammed, but mainly, I just wanted to see if I could do it. I have never had a fear of talking to people or heights. Scary clowns never phased me, and the fear of missing out, FOMO, never got to me. I was cruisin’ through life as if fear had forgotten to assign me something, assuming I was untouchable. But as usual, assuming is a dangerous thing to do.
Socks? Check. Toothbrush? Check. List of the rest of the school assignments meticulously printed? Check! Unlike most of my college colleagues, I look forward to the breaks not due to relaxing on the beach or skiing down mountains; nay, instead, my jitters come from all the homework and assignments I can pack into the days off. So, with my manic idea of what a break is supposed to be, this break was no different. I sat down and did some math (I know, shocker) and calculated that I only had 15 assignments left in the semester, so that would mean I needed to do 2.143 assignments per day over spring break to complete my mission. Easy enough… right?
Gifted. It’s a sticky word in a lot of our vocabulary. Maybe you were called that in school or perhaps you were compared to the ones that were. Growing up, I was in both categories. I shined in the creative world, specifically with writing; however, when you look at my math and science abilities— also spelling— yikes. I was so bad at math that I was routinely taken out of my other courses in elementary school and placed in extra math tutoring. So, when the other kids would get to go to gym or art class or literally anything I was interested in, I went off to the computers and did more freakin’ math.
By the time middle school rolled around, I was still behind. Everyone was going forward, but I was going backward? I grew frustrated that the formulas weren’t formulating for me or that I would get lost when they would put more than three steps in an equation. Even the alphabet betrayed me when it joined the math party! When I got to high school, this feeling of being academically behind everyone else grew worse, especially since most of my friends were in the pre-engineering program. So, as I got to university, I made a promise to myself that I would work as hard as I could to never feel behind again.
Today, on my to-do list, I have two essays to write, plus I need to read some chapters in a book for class, oh and I should do the essay alongside the book, but I’m a slow reader and fast writer, which might make my groove a little less groovy. Coffee shop? No, that could be distracting. I don’t want to get lost in the socializing sauce, gotta get work done and I don’t want to be behind. I can’t get behind; I won’t get behind.
If you are like me, the idea of relaxing feels strange. In fact, I have been scolded by bosses who believed I was falling behind, not because of the piles of work they stacked on me, but because I was not working hard enough. I was grilled into thinking my only worth was in my efficiency and not the effort I was putting in. The fear of falling behind, FOFB if you will, had transformed from an academic effort to a self-worth ideology.
My obsession with work seems like a pretty common American behavior. Juliana Menasce Horowitz and Kim Parker conducted a study for the Pew Research Center and published an article titled “How Americans View Their Jobs”. Within this article, it found that a good amount of Americans do not take advantage of paid time off (PTO). The article states, “Among workers who say their employer offers them paid time off for vacation, doctor’s appointments or to deal with minor illnesses, 48% say they typically take all the time off they are offered, while 46% say they take less time off than they are allowed” (2023). Though it is good that the majority do take their time off, the amount of those that don’t is staggeringly high.
So, fear did catch me — to be fair, I was never a runner— and now, the more I get sucked down into it, the more I realize how tricky it is to navigate. It’s the reason why we have anxiety when we are in uncomfortable or dangerous situations. Or why we know when we should stop or move forward. But, if we had no fear, we would have nothing to conquer or nothing to compel us to be better. It’s the driving force behind why I find myself writing essays and assignments during my days off just to get ahead of the game. It’s the motivation for us to win a competition. Or the basis behind the ambitious goals we set for ourselves. Fear is the reason why we have to have courage.
Featured image by Sam Reed.