I’ve found myself to be in a particularly tumultuous, insecure time of life. It took me a long time to see it because insecurities aren’t something I’ve dealt much with since junior high. I know who I am, I know my flaws, I know what I’m good at. I accept that I am flawed and always will be, that criticism is necessary, that you can’t be everyone’s cup of tea. But ever since I’ve started my third year of college, I’ve been walking on eggshells around myself. I’ve been hesitant and mousy, traits I have tried over and over to stamp out, and, at the very core of it, I’ve been scared.
The more I busy myself, the more I am part of, the more people I get to know, the bigger the chance that I will fail drastically. And it’s kept me wondering, am I good enough? Am I good enough to succeed? To not fail? Am I good enough to represent my class, my school, the organizations I join? What if I can’t hold my own? What if I absolutely fall apart? And when that inevitably happens because all people fail, will I have the strength to pick myself back up again?
Welcome to the collegiate identity crisis. My name is Jillian and I'll be your guide today. Over here, we have - wait, don't look there, it's not perfect yet. And over there, it's - oops, that doesn't look put together enough for guests to see.
Look at the grand "me, myself and I," stumbling around in the darkness with two left feet. What absurd, punitive stress I've placed on my own back. Because it's just all about me.
Am I good enough? No, I'm not. Standalone, I am a broken mess of a human, small and weak and incapable of greatness: Looking to glorify myself, seeking identity in my accomplishments and absolutely afraid of it all crumbling down. Because it will. Nothing in this world lasts, eventually even the most well-known of stars will fade into the past. Can you name the top three actors and actresses of the 70's without Googling it?
Neither can I.
There are two ways of approaching the great collegiate identity crisis. On the one hand, you could continue to seek the things that will lift yourself up, make your name known. Put more and more pressure on yourself to succeed, work endlessly and tirelessly after it. Or, you could stop seeking your worth in how other people see you and chase relentlessly after the One who created and sustains you.
It is an exhaustive world we find ourselves in, one that keeps moving faster and faster. We're told if we don't keep up, we'll become irrelevant. If we don't compete, we'll never make it. Do I really want to chase a world that will be gone tomorrow, or fight for the most superficial kind of love?
No. I really don't.
