For as long as I can remember I have held on to the mentality of never quitting anything. I looked around me at kids who would constantly quit clubs or sports and saw that they never seemed to stick with anything. Those were the same kids who were disruptive in class or didn't do well in school. That lead me to believe that quitting is addictive and leads to nothing but fickle unreliability. Throughout high school I was involved with many different areas of extra curricular activities. Sometimes those activities would overlap or pile up in a manner that was too much for me to handle, leading to copious amounts of stress, poor health, lack luster work ethic and occasional breakdowns. The best way I could have avoided all of that in the first place would have been to not take on so much or at least manage my time better. Another way to deal with those issues would have been to cut back on my responsibilities, or in other words, QUIT. As much as I hate that word and everything it implies, sometimes quitting is not a bad thing, in fact, sometimes it's the best thing for you to do and is a sign of maturity.
I came to realize that my resolve to not quit anything wasn't a sign of strong commitment or reliability, it was a sign of pride (not the good kind). Pride, I have come to realize, is my hamartia; my fatal flaw, my tragic error. I would rather climb a highly unstable structure to reach something rather than ask for help. I would rather suffer than admit I am in pain. I would rather pass out, face first in the dirt rather than admit I can't finish a work out (True story, ask my high school track coach). As I'm growing older I'm realizing that that kind of thought process is just stupid. It does no good for anyone. If anything, it just makes things worse for myself and others. Now let's take that new found knowledge and apply it to my current circumstances.
When I was figuring out my class schedule for this semester I somehow convinced myself that I would enjoy taking a Pilates class for one credit. I was then reminded on my first day of classes that I have a strong aversion to practically all non-competitive forms of exercise. It was painstakingly obvious that I would dread going to that class for the whole semester which would not benefit me in any way. When I discussed this issue of mine with a friend, they immediately just said, "drop it". My instinct told me say some crap like, "I don't drop classes", or "I'll get through it", but then I actually thought about it and realized that there was absolutely no logical reason for me not to. One single credit that I could easily get from another class which I would actually enjoy next semester, was not worth the amount of emotional energy it would take for me to force myself to go to that class. So I swallowed my pride, closed my eyes, and clicked the 'drop' button. It was painful, but I did it.
What I hope you get from this isn't that quitting is great and you should just drop every class you don't like; if we did that, no one would ever get a degree and some classes wouldn't even exist anymore. Commitment and perseverance are extremely important and are vital traits to have in order to accomplish anything of substance. What I am hoping you will get from this is that if your only reasoning to stick with something is because you're not a quitter, it's time to do a pride check. If being in that club, sport, elective, activity or even relationship is bringing you nothing but negative emotions and a bad attitude, and you have no logical reason to stick with it other than your pride, please, JUST QUIT. I promise you, your pride isn't worth it.
p.s. This was actually just a long winded explanation to my parents as to why I dropped a class. Love you Mommy!
