(Failed a lot, learnt a little, here’s a short summary of it all)
If I go by how I have been made to feel all these years — I think being born as a female was the first failure. (I mean, I can say that this accident of birth was a failure too — but let’s not begin at such grim a note). The rules were laid out — there were things that would always be out of my reach — a life with capacity to make own decisions and see them through, of having healthy notions of self-worth, of being thought of someone with value just because I exist being some of them. This failure will see me to my grave and will keep teaching me through my life. I was lucky I got a chance to unlearn the hatred for my own self and for other women — not everyone gets that. I had no hand in this failure, it is definitely society’s failure but if you paid attention and read the bit about self-worth — taking the blame comes naturally to me. I will spend the life learning my own value, learning how to believe in myself and learning to keep my head up high.
It is cliched, but it is true. Life does not come with a user manual. Even if it did, I am not sure how many of us would read through — I don’t think I would. There are just reflections on the life gone by and regrets and what ifs — the things you could have done differently.
If I could begin again — I would not be the golden child I was. Straight A’s — Top of the class — Extracurricular activities — Teachers’ pet. I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t shine so bright that I exhaust myself and fizzle out so soon. If I knew any better, I would be in the comfortable zone — the just right — the Goldilocks zone. But there is no way of telling if that would have gone well — if I wouldn’t have been compared to my peers in that scenario, if that wouldn’t have killed me a little on the inside. But maybe, it would hurt less than the comparison I see now — the comparison of my present self with my past self. That I could have been all that, but I squandered my chance somehow. You can’t really win, can you? I still would have tried to go a little easy.
I wouldn’t have stuck to one particular vocation — declared that it was the one thing I wanted to do with my life. But what do children know? It amazes me how adults can freely go back on their promises, oaths and what not but something I said as a kid just kept haunting me over and over and over and over…. If I could do it again, I would probably wait for the last year of school to make up my mind regarding what I wanted to do.
Despite the circumstances, I did find myself in a good college. Somehow, I still suffered a lot. So much that I mostly have bad memories associated with my time in college. I guess that happens when a small town government school kid finds themselves in a big city big college. I wish I did not feel so small when people presumed I got into the college because of a quota. I wish I didn’t let myself believe that my fluency in English is somehow a benchmark of my intelligence or worth. I wish I did not look for friendship or love in the wrong places — I wish I knew it was okay to be alone rather to be pitied or to be loved in half measures or not at all or out of convenience. It’s a shame no one teaches you that. It’s a shame you have to figure it out by yourself, all alone and suffer and suffer and suffer, even years later. I wish I knew how to gracefully let people go. I am learning that, still. I wish I had applied for that one scholarship — the only deterrent for me was that one office staff that spoke rudely to me, so I just gave up the pursuit altogether. It would have lessened the financial burden of my parents a little (because what am I if not a liability and a burden). But really, I think I would’ve gotten it if I applied. If only. I wish I was more confident but who teaches that? I was just a meek girl who found living away from home difficult, but the home did not empathise much. I got to go to a good college, but I don’t think it made that much of a difference — except that I got to see the difference in the way I lived my life and in the way those above me on the social ladder did. All I got was heartache, and aspirations that I couldn’t achieve. I never felt that I belonged to the college community and that feeling has just solidified over years. I might as well have attended a college/university in the neighbouring city.
I have said it before, I have written it before but I don’t think I have made peace with it yet hence it keeps coming up again and again in my thoughts, in my life and in my writing. The three years after graduation were hell. It was failure after failure and I don’t really know what I learnt from it all. If anything, I wish I had the liberty to give up when I couldn’t go on any longer. I wish someone would’ve seen me and told me that I need to take a break and stop trying so hard and take a different route. I did reach a different route but I wish I did not have to suffer so much before that. Those were supposed to be the prime years of my life and I spent them in my house (Covid wasn’t a thing then) dreading the next day — waking up and still being a failure, still being a disappointment, still being worthless. If anything, I wish I wouldn’t have been so afraid. I was so afraid. I was so afraid of failing, so afraid of being a failure and a disappointment that that fear sapped away all joy that I derived from learning. There is hardly any joy in learning for me anymore. I wish someone believed in me and reminded me of it too. I wish I did not feel so terribly lonely — but then, I don’t think that is entirely my failure. I don’t know if it was the cause or effect that my support system thought I was worthy of love only when I was successful. I don’t know what to do with that void that refuses to be filled.
(Years later, my therapist told me I need to empower myself. I don’t know if that is enough because even when I might be learning about empowering my own self, I don’t think I know how to love myself very well.)
I reached mid-twenties and things seemed to stabilise for me a little. I was still afraid. That fear still ruined things for me. It had turned irrational by this point, I think. No achievement sufficed, nobody told me my achievements were enough or that I was enough. I didn’t know what would be or could be enough. I kept going on despite. I could wish all I want that I believed in myself more but I didn’t know how to do that. To not be afraid that I’ll fail again. I think, the thing I would’ve redone here, or maybe even earlier would have been to not tie all my worth to my academic achievements. Not that I had anything else going on for me, but deriving my sense of self completely from essentially numbers didn’t end well for me. Again, I am wise only in retrospect. I learnt only after going through it all. I wish that wasn’t the case.
As I got my first job, which didn’t pay much, I still feel I should’ve managed my finances better, should’ve saved more — but then I had no idea that I’d quit after a year, thanks to Covid. Money does make the world go round and it is always a great idea to save for the rainy days. I was more or less satisfied with my work — it was exhausting but it wasn’t too bad. If anything, I would’ve liked to go in with a thicker skin, not letting the unkind words of people get to me — which happened a couple of times. Apart from those few instances and a few other where the time constraints drove me to the point of tears — everything went well. I definitely grew in confidence — the work gave me tangible results and I could see what I was doing and achieving (which was a lot!). It was a great feeling (even when it left me with little energy to do anything else)!
[You can read part 2 here.]
You can check out my other published work here — a short poetry collection and a memoir. Thank you for reading, have a great day! :)
