A-level result’s day, I was bricking it like most other people my age. I remember walking, trembling and continually praying; I was hoping for divine intervention to get the grades I wanted.
Too fearful to open it in front of my friends, I walked back to my parent’s car clutching the envelope. I opened the envelope. I found out how I did. My world came crashing down; I felt like Atlas but this time the sky was too great and I collapsed.
My initial thoughts were that I wasn’t going to get into university or get a job. As the days passed, I got bitter. I couldn’t understand why I had gotten what I got. I had religiously studied for 10 hours a day, for weeks on end and I did all the past papers. I thought exams were stupid and didn’t measure intellect or knowledge.
I used to think that if I wasn’t good at something, whatever it might be, it probably wasn’t worth it anyway. If I was bad at art, then I thought: “art isn’t a degree and it doesn’t have any job prospects anyway”. I had this tendency to reassure myself that when I faced failure, I shouldn’t worry because the obstacle itself was pointless.
I look back at these unhealthy thoughts and explore why this was a part of my ethos. This coping mechanism for failure prevented me to grow and develop. This reassurance strategy didn’t allow me to face my failures, but ignore them. I look back on this mindset and realise how much it hindered me.
I had this tendency to reassure myself that when I faced failure, I shouldn’t worry because the obstacle itself was pointless.
Where did it come from?
I want to discuss its origins. I believe it came from an upbringing which I feel is quite normal within Punjabi households (evidence of this? Erm…memes on Instagram). They live as if their child is already what you want them to be, whilst not helping them to get there. I am not blaming my parents, far from it, this wasn’t their intention. I believe this issue is simply a by-product of Indian culture with the pressure to be perfect (sound familiar?).
Aunties since the neanderthal era have gossiped and will continue to do so. For some reason, aunties at their local spot love to gloat about their family as if they were the sole reason for their family’s success. This trickles down to make sure their children are better than Shah’s daughter who went to Cambridge at age 11 but also won an Olympic gold medal in cricket for India. You may have guessed this information is slightly exaggerated, but this form of gloating is constantly relayed to their sons and daughters.
Parents are relaying this information which either pushes their son or daughter to work harder or give up. Either outcome, we become paralysed by being wrong. We either do work that doesn’t push us so we can’t be wrong, or we work so hard we become fearful of being wrong; wrong-a-phobia.
We either do work that doesn’t push us so we can’t be wrong, or we work so hard we become fearful of being wrong; wrong-a-phobia.
So what can you do? I don’t recommend viciously attacking them because they don’t know any better, but understand their side. This is what gave me calmness when I hear aunties speak. Auties love to gloat; it’s one of the joys they have in life. Aunties speak in hyperboles and will continue to do so. An aunty wants to beat the other aunties by showing how amazing their family is and to be Queen Aunty – well, to gain recognition from their squad. Let them carry this expectation, but you just focus on you. Don’t be scared of making a mistake.
I used to work, and still do religiously, to make sure I can’t be wrong. The pretty side is I can focus and have a sense of completing what I want; the bad side is I can unknowingly wear myself out to the point of ending up in hospital. Yes, you read that right, hospital. I neglected the limitations of the human body. Honestly, I thought if I wanted to succeed I need to win the long race and then take time off.
This work ethic made me the nerdy one at school, where everyone expected me to be smart. I don’t know why but I felt a need to live up to this expectation which further added pressure to the sky I was holding up.
Like all good fairy tales, there is a happy ending to this story. I took a piece of humble pie, a big piece mind you, and admitted I was wrong. I threw this unhealthy thought out like Uncle Phil throws Jazz from Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
Honestly, I felt so relieved because I wasn’t running in this Punjabi rat race and focusing on everyone else’s positions within it. I was focusing on my own race and on how far I had travelled. It wasn’t easy to admit I was wrong but with great confidence, once I gave in to being wrong, I could learn from it and succeed. I kept focusing on my end goal, to do the best in my exams. No matter how many setbacks I was going to face, I was adamant I would learn from my mistakes and get back up. I didn’t put a timestamp on these goals. If it will take two years, it will take me two. If it took me three years, it will take me three.
I didn’t put a timestamp on these goals. If it will take two years, it will take me two. If it took me three years, it will take me three.
Trully, it felt great because I realised the best life lessons are learnt from being wrong. I felt a lot more confident to be wrong and was happy to step outside of my comfort zone. I enjoyed being wrong because I saw it as an opportunity for growth, and I felt I was making progress towards my goal. To paraphrase Humble the Poet: losses are only bad if you don’t learn from them.
Next time a similar situation happens, I know with great confidence what I need to do.
So when my retakes came around, it didn’t feel as bad as the first time. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows because revising for my retakes was taking up my little free time. Realising I needed a balance but couldn’t afford to have one did scare me. Nonetheless, I kept on focusing on my goal at hand. I didn’t get a wink of sleep when my first exam started but as they progressed I knew I would get the results I wanted, and I did. I got A*A* A. The deterministic self thinks this period was meant to happen because it gave me one of the best humbling experiences which I have never forgotten.
To paraphrase Humble the Poet: losses are only bad if you don’t learn from them.
About me: Having studied Chemical Engineering at university, I am now a graduate engineer in the energy industry. I enjoy going to the gym, spending time with loved ones, and helping others not make the same mistakes I did.
Life motto: “The best thing about failure is that there is an opportunity to be better than you were yesterday.”