What do you do when you’re no longer extraordinary at your best skill? I’m still trying to figure that out, even when I’m about to graduate. 

All I can do is draw. That’s my entire personality. All I am is art.

The only way I could communicate to myself as someone who bottled up all their emotions as a child was through drawing. Subconsciously, I’d recreate the turmoil in my head using colored pencils on printer paper. It was my only outlet. I was the only thing I could turn to.

As I’ve grown up, I’ve learned that all I am has turned competitive. Through contests and art classes, I’ve watched hate grow inside of me, all directed towards myself, not content with my nonlinear path of growth. Suddenly it just felt like my self worth was being put on the line, like I was fueled by validation for my art instead of it being my general coping mechanism.

So, I slowly watched myself rot inside-out. 

My emotions on paper turned into something I hoped would be profitable, like a painting made of my own blood. I was slowly bleeding myself dry.

Now, a new issue introduces itself.

 I fell short academically as I worked to further my proficiency in various mediums of art in order to become the best. It was unhealthy. The standards forced on me by my parents were no longer met, and I became exactly what I feared: a failure.

It hit hardest during junior year, when I was finishing a math assignment with tears in my eyes. Like a broken record, the same lines replayed in my head: Why didn’t I understand this as quickly as everyone else did? What did I need to give up in order to thrive in this class? I’ve always been bad at math, it’s fine. 

But the record abruptly stopped.

That week, time stopped for me, but kept moving for everyone else. I started to reflect, which was hard, given how much work I was missing while I was doing so, but I took advantage of this new space away from the chaos of the world.

It was here I learned two things: 1. In the end, I need to be content with myself before appeasing everyone else’s standards. 2. Sometimes you should aim to be average at lots of things versus being the best at one singular thing.

If I didn’t like myself, there was no way I could further myself to be a better person. I need to be kind to myself while also holding myself accountable. It’s easier said than done, because I’m rewiring myself from my parents standards and trying to build my own. I’m still scared I don’t have enough time to rediscover and rework myself, but all life is about is growing. We are ever changing, and have all the time in the world to help ourselves be better. 

To be average at a lot of things helped me explore all my interests. I could branch out from drawing, and find new interests I could let myself be bad at. I have no obligation to be good at multiple hobbies, but I’m glad to tell people I’ve tried. And when you find that one interest you are particularly intrigued in, stick with it. Whether you’re good at it or not, if you find enjoyment or even a community in it, that’s more than enough of a reason to keep at it, rather than just focusing on being proficient in it.

I wish I could tell you that everything turned out ok, but truly I’m still figuring it out myself. I can tell you, though, everything looks like it’s going alright. 

Sometimes life will show you so many light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnels, it becomes an overwhelming and blinding light. All you have to do is figure out which path you want to take, and follow that light til’ the end.