I Depend On Myself

I never imagined myself with my head buried deep in workbooks and a rosary gently wrapped around my hand in hopes of praying for a successful future. I never had superstitions, but the moment I realized that the world was bigger than I was estimating, I began believing in good luck charms and a prayer to God was my only solution to the stress eating me from the inside out.

If somebody had told me six years ago that I was bound to improve my good grades to excellent grades, I would have perceived them as crazy. I had friends with low grades and I always envied the class’ most popular and smartest girl who I desperately wanted to befriend. I was judged and compared with my family and the girl who were better, more talented, and less lazy than I was.

I wanted to achieve goals but knew I couldn’t because of the lack of motivation which made me give up eventually. Everyone I surrounded myself with seemed to have a hobby, a passion that made them energized and most importantly hopeful and happy. Every step they took to success made me take a step back and admire them. I wanted to achieve the euphoria they were experiencing and the praise that was thrown at them. I set up a persona which was different from my usual self. The persona was more confident, active, and motivated. She took up chess classes, English spelling bees, and singing. The more I looked myself in the mirror, the more I was disgusted at the persona staring back at me. It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I was scolded and yelled at by my English teacher that I would fail her class for not being motivated to study such a wonderful language. I was angry, yet disappointed at myself for not pleasing my teacher's standards.

A year later, after spending most of her classes in silence and boredom, I decided to speak up. A few years later, I have won multiple competitions which my teacher attended, and every time I enjoyed seeing the look of astonishment on her face at the sight of me at my best. At my peak of success, I was thrown into the world of writing. I spent everyday writing short stories from romances to science-fiction to eventually essays on relevant or controversial themes. For once in my life, I could not be measured with others’ success and I was the best in my field of work.

The praise and attention I was receiving shaped me into the person I am today and the stories I wrote on different cultures and perspectives made me be open-minded and caring. I finally formed opinions that were mine and not based on others’ stories. I soon realized, excellent grades matter if I wish to attend the college of my dreams. My mother once told me: “I expected your grades to fall after middle school, but I’m pleasantly surprised.” After many years, I was finally able to be proud of what I achieved without being compared by my own flesh and blood. The persona I once portrayed which tried to benefit my social life, finally disappeared and I took an interest, which was not forced, in chess, rollerblading, dancing, singing, and most importantly writing.

To this day, I still try not to be judgmental because everybody has a reason for their upbringing and it is on me and the society they surround themselves with to make them comfortable. My grades matter and they will decide what I will do and achieve in life and most importantly, I shouldn’t depend on anybody to do my work because I depend on my own future and most importantly, on myself. I am the anchor that keeps my body and soul steady and there is no person in this world who is capable of bringing the best out of me. I only have myself to depend on.