Digital Diary - Edition 7
When you've always been a ‘bright’ child from a young age, there come certain inherent expectations of you.
Expectations to stand out more, to achieve something greater, to be someone better. And when
you fall short of those expectations the disappointment is like no other.
From a very young age, I was expected to excel in everything. It didn’t help that I was exceptionally
well at studies either. I was always told I’d do great things. And to a fifth grader, of course, it
sounded beautiful, to be told that I could achieve whatever I wanted. But as I grew up, the things
expected from me started to feel like an endless chasm, where no matter how much I tried to
climb out, I just kept on falling. At some point the adding expectations became suffocating.
Everything I did, I was scared of failing. I was so scared that I didn’t even try. If there were no
expectations, there couldn’t be any disappointments. For the longest time, I tried to do things
that were safe for me, and that I knew I could do at least good enough in. I now realise how much I
missed out on, just because I wasn't brave enough. Brave enough to love myself at a time I
needed it the most.
I don't think people even realised the expectations they had from me. It was so often said in
passing that I don't think they remembered it. But how could I forget? It just kept on
adding to the ever-growing list. None of the shows, the podcasts ever tell you how
these expectations can kill you from the inside. How with each one you fail to live up to, you start to
hate yourself a little more. Little by little it consumes you whole, and that's where the most
danger lies, once you start to lose yourself in this all-consuming hatred. When I started to see
myself as a measure of everyone else's expectations was when I truly started to hate myself the
most. I was in a constant cycle of comparison. Comparing myself to others around me. It was
exhausting.
- Rtr. Zainab Degani
Departmental Executive
2022-23
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