Quizzed

Sample of my writing submissions ( a narrative)

Quizzed

Tick. The face of the clock is staring at me again, the table is compulsively shaking in the rhythm of my classmate’s Restless Leg Syndrome, and the unprepared guy across from me is frantically rummaging through his belongings for a calculator. The students are impatiently waiting for instructions and the only sounds are from the shuffling papers and the second hand tick-tocking away in the background. Tock. The acceleration of my heart’s irregular palpitations is the least of my worries. It’s almost time to start the quiz. Although comparison and competition are not feasible measurements for self worth; my competitive nature is unconsciously fueled by uncertainty, driving my mind to nervously compare both measurable and immeasurable realities. Comparisons bring the worst insecurities to the surface, inevitably stealing happiness, while diminishing the sense of self, and hindering personal development.

 I am the kind of student who sedulously studies on the regular, yet pop quizzes always find a way to agitate my very last nerve. It was after a brief announcement covering the daily agenda, when the class was surprised with a cumulative pop quiz. I timidly glanced across the room, looking for sympathy, only to meet a fleet of forced smiles all methodically wracking their brains for a way to alleviate stress. It was too late to glance at notes; it was time to start the pop quiz. The first few questions were straightforward; a majority were simple multiple choice. One by one, I confidently eliminated wrong answers. Nothing had seemed too perplexing or too complex before my attentiveness started fading in and out of focus. Initially, my attention was interrupted by the slow, screeching chairs sliding across the floor. The students’ whispers began drowning out my concentration, as anxiety accompanied my stomach cramps.  Only thirty minutes had passed, yet more than half the class had already finished, including Mr. Restless. With merely nine of twenty questioned answered, I let trepidation and doubt start hacking away at my confidence before rushing my way through the rest of the questions. Flustered, I hurriedly checked my solutions, but the information I learned seemed to escape me. My insecurities started comparing myself to the students who finished before me as if their speed were an accurate indication of my overall intelligence and success.

Ultimately, I blame years of rivalry and comparison for sabotaging my ego and slowly draining the happiness from within. In grade school, I habitually compared myself to others, their achievements, and foolishly believed in the lies I told myself. Dangerous lies that often started with, “you’re not smart enough for….” and “you can’t…” or “you’ll never be able to…” built up over time and deflated my self-esteem. Inside I felt unworthy, undeserving, and never quite good enough. Coincidently, there were also lies that pretended to be perfectionists, arrogantly aiming to be better, faster, or smarter than everyone else as if I had something to prove. The quest for validation became monotonous. The lies confused my sense of purpose, draining the joy out of simplicity. Everyday life was a competition, including the pop quiz. Winning fed my ego where losing imploded it.  

 Abruptly during the quiz, it came to mind that I was wasting more time letting comparison and competition diminish my sense of self by neglecting my own strengths and positive attributes. Admittedly, I didn’t understand why I felt envious of other’s achievements just as I didn’t understand why I didn’t have this wake-up call any sooner. Somewhere down a crooked road in life, it became second nature to let competition somehow compensate for low self-esteem. Until the quiz, I never admitted I was unconsciously devaluing my own potential by comparing my weaknesses with everyone else’s strengths. Secretly acknowledging that I was playing in an imaginary game that I could never win would be my greatest accomplishment. My competitive nature was fueling the cycle of resentment and discontent. While I was diligently focused on meaningless winnings, I lost sight of the goal and lost sight of myself.

Not only did comparison hamper my performance during the quiz, it hindered my personal development. After the quiz and after hours of untying the knots out of my stomach, I walked around with a heavy chip on my shoulder. I was angry at everything. The quiz was neither timed, nor graded, it was only to help students identify what needed to be studied. The intensity of anxiety and worry are for nothing. After all the years leading up to the quiz, and years of obsessing over being the best, I concluded that I didn’t even know what I wanted to be best at.  For me, there was no end goal. I was mindlessly competing for aspirations and things that I didn’t even want, in order to feel adequate and accepted. Ironically this quiz brought about my first moment of clarity. It doesn’t matter what other people think. I realized, I had been too busy wanting to be the best at what everyone else wanted that I had no idea what I wanted out life for myself.

Comparisons bring the worst insecurities directly to the front of the mind over time stealing happiness, diminishing the sense of self, and hindering personal development. My competitive nature was unconsciously fueled by insecurity, but comparison and competition are not practicable measurements for self-worth. Eventually, I let competition compensate for low self-esteem, but inevitably undervalued my own potential. Now as I eagerly await any quiz, I overlook the clock staring at me, clearing negativity out of my mind. Trusting my instincts, I breathe in letting oxygen stimulate blood flood flow to my brain, I disregard distracting echoes of skidding chairs as students exit before me, and I simply take the quiz.