A couple of years ago, while pondering the whole college application process as an unaware, naive sophomore, I turned to the Internet – wanting to hear what people who were wiser than me had to say. 

I stumbled across a whole response that touched on the college admissions process; one sentence in that lengthy paragraph resonated with me, and I’ve remembered it ever since: “Life is a marathon, not a sprint.” As we’re well into the New Year, I wanted to reflect and work to adopt this mindset. The main idea of this post was twofold; first, where we go to college does not necessarily determine whether we’ll be successful in the future. Second, earning incredible accomplishments in high school – which ultimately contributes to getting accepted into that selective, prestigious university and landing a prestigious job afterwards – does not necessarily guarantee that similar successes will follow suit. In other words, complacency can often follow a slew of achievements; it is possible to start off running like a hare and then slow down to the pace of a tortoise. 

While I understand this now, I’m also beginning to tackle a thought that has loomed over my head: I did not do the best with my circumstances. This is such a vague phrase. Of course, I’m not perfect: I’m guilty of procrastinating and putting my work off, whether that be a blog post, chemistry assignment or an English essay. But there’s something else; part of these spiraling thoughts has been fueled by comparison online – particularly through social media, which provided the opportunity for me to doubt whether what I was pursuing was impressive or recognizable. I realize the irrationality of it all: I’m comparing myself to a piece of information online, objectifying life and watering it down to achievements and awards shared on the Internet. In doing this, I’m neglecting what makes me unique: my values, aspirations and personal circumstances, and how these factors differ among everyone. After all, the items shared online aren’t always a genuine representation of what happens in a person’s life; it goes through a filter – one that focuses on the end result and not necessarily the honest journey to get there. 

Everyone’s journey is different, partly determined by self and partly determined by a higher power. Comparing two paths, two people, is impossible – and quite unproductive. Nonetheless, looking at the bigger picture: high school is a small fraction of our overall lives, and the end of those four years marks the start of a plethora of opportunities that lie ahead. Yet the college admissions process – and the allure that comes with the name, prestige, and resources situated at a selective institution – makes it feel as if high school is the end, all defined by which college we attend, as well as the achievements, awards and recognition garnered at that point. 

In fact, as I reflect back on high school, I’m realizing that the things I thought were a big deal… really weren’t; they were fleeting. My sophomore year chemistry lab which I perfected endlessly, trying to earn the maximum number of points? I can’t even remember what the lab was about at the moment; yet, I know that somehow, my data analysis and scientific writing skills improved along the way. The academic competitions and science fairs I never had the opportunity to participate in (but kept on seeing peers from other high schools excel in)? Well, I’ve come to realize that my personal learning in areas of cancer research and biomedical engineering have fueled my curiosity, leading me to come up with research proposals and ideas that I aim to explore further; I built a base of knowledge that will serve me as I pursue science research in college and beyond. I placed so much pressure on these aspects and continued to feel overwhelmed by what I thought I should’ve been doing. There was a path carved out for me, and the lessons and knowledge reaped from this path are what matter; in traversing this path, I’m progressing with the marathon. 

Beneath this, there was a deeper reason for my feeling of not having done my best, or not having done enough. Yes, I believed I didn’t have enough awards, or that I didn’t volunteer with enough organizations (especially after I was rejected from all the major senior year scholarships I applied to – I won’t go into too much detail about that as I don’t want it to be the focus of this post). Really, the underlying reason was because in my eyes, the initiatives and projects I worked on didn’t reach the level of impact I wanted them to reach. However, my thinking and behavior – procrastinating, comparing myself to others, and feeling engulfed by my own doubt – stemmed from a gaping problem: an insidious lack of self-confidence. 

For example, I’m consistent with my blog (particularly in terms of writing); yet, something weighed me down – preventing me from uploading and sharing. As I search the vast expanse of my Google Drive, I see documents of text: stories, poems, fragments of blogs, and drafts of social media posts that I discarded before they had the chance to come into fruition. I believed that they were too awkward, I wasn’t qualified to speak on the subject, or even worse: people wouldn’t like them.

It’s funny, I only had this “confidence epiphany” during my creative writing class which I’m now taking in senior year. It was a New Year’s resolution assignment, where I was tasked with creatively representing something I wanted to achieve this year – primarily in the realm of writing. I pondered for a few minutes, searching for a single word to unify my experiences, and wrote one in bold calligraphy: SERENE. Serenity encompasses being at peace, a state that is only possible when I embrace self-confidence and believe in myself. In retrospect, a lack of confidence has impacted me in both small and large ways. Most commonly, it was on a class assessment – a chemistry or physics unit test for instance – where I would write the correct process, second guess myself, then erase it all. On a deeper level, a lack of confidence hindered progress with my blog and content creation journey, as well as with how I presented myself on scholarship and college applications. While I wish I had my “epiphany” sooner, I understand that… this isn’t the end. 

Yes, I could’ve been more successful in “sprints” – whether that was in science competitions or becoming viral with content. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m working towards a long-term vision, and that it’s entirely within reach to achieve (significant) accolades down the road. The timing of my experiences were integral towards cultivating the values and mindset I have now.  I hold the power to define what success in bioengineering research & medicine, content creation, education, volunteerism and my contributions to those respective communities entail. At the end, I define how the road, with all its twists and turns, will look like, as well as how my marathon will unfold. To conclude this monologue, here’s one of my favorite quotes penned by Winston Churchill – one that sums up the idea of life being a marathon (and not a sprint) perfectly: 

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal – it is the courage to continue that counts.”