There are people, who continuously strive to challenge themselves. They push their limits, in order to be more than what they already are. They look problems in the eye, and tackle it with the intention of becomg stronger, smarter or more sucessful.
I am not one of those people.
I only aim to work harder, to beat others. As competitive as that sounds. An even greater factor of how hard I work, is determined by how many people think I can do it. When one says that I am not capable, I am somewhat triggered into giving it my all. My mother tells me I won’t even pass, I get an ‘A’. She acts as if it is some kind of miracle, I get some Academic Excellence award. She tells me that I got lucky, I get the same award for three years.
I have this monster in my head, telling me to just give up. It tells me I am ugly, I am miserable, I am worthless. Since I was little, I have called it ‘Stan’. As in, “Standing on my hopes and dreams’. Yeah, I thought I was a clever little ten year old. Stan tells me that I am good for nothing, that my past is who I am, and that I deserve all the pain in the world; I agree with the last part.
And this is the reason I keep holding on. In spite. Everything that Stan tells me, makes me stronger. It gives me a reason to hang in there. So I can say to myself, I won.