By nature, I hate competing.
I gave up competitive hockey when I was 12.
I gave up rhythmic gymnastics when I was 15.
I gave up playing volleyball when I was 17.
I gave up not because I hated to lose – but because I couldn’t quite bear to swallow the fact that I couldn’t be number one. I compared myself to others all the time and if I couldn’t be number one, why bother at all?
Suffice to say, I grew up a lot since then. I thought long and hard about how I wanted to live my life, and came to realize that I didn’t want to do things in the name of oneupmanship.
So I did things that felt RIGHT, not right by society’s standards (let’s face it – it’s one big race there too.)
I lost a few battles and won a few too. I got a bit bolder and tried out things I normally wouldn’t (like quitting my job for Pikaland), and pushed my boundaries – and comfort zone – a little bit more everyday. The more I fell down and picked myself up in this big race, the more I realize that I’d very much prefer to play in the sandbox all by myself (you’re all invited, of course) instead of sprinting all the time.
It’s really exhausting to keep up in the long run anyway.
I’d rather build something that would be deeply satisfying in the long run as opposed to having a temporary medal hung around my neck.
Have a lovely Monday folks!
