I was talking to my wife about the feeling of underachieving relative to unrealistic childhood goals, and she mentioned that she never thought she was smart or special enough as a child to dream of being THE anything. Like she wanted to work in science, but never took that to mean that she wanted to be THE one to get famous curing cancer or writing a Malcom Gladwell-type book or running her own lab.
I, of course, think she is the most special genius I know, and I think she’d do a great job in any of those situations, but the depressingly realistic expectations she set out of lower self-confidence as a kid have now served her well in terms of job and life satisfaction. It made me sad to hear and angry at her parents for not communicating that she was and is exceptional, but I am also sad and angry that I am not the next Bob Dylan with a universal acceptance of my genius and no need to do anything but write poetry and receive accolades. At the same time, I’d hate to actually live on the road and/or have the life of most ultra-famous writers, but I still feel like I’ve betrayed my childhood potential by not doing so and by being unremarkable.
Hard to say if that disappointment is worse than growing up without being told you even could achieve something like that. My wife is healthy now, but had a lot of shit she had to overcome in her childhood and adult mental health journeys, and while/since I have as well, I don’t think we’ll ever get answers about every different thing that affects our current and past contentedness. So I am just left with the contradictory disappointments of having failed to live up to grand self-determined goals and that no one ever told my wife she could set hers like the incredible person, thinker, and worker she is–even knowing that just may have led to her feeling my current disappointment in place of any she felt as a child.
Long and complicated, no resolution, it’s just been weird to see and think about our two very different experiences.
I think there’s a healthy hue somewhere in between those two maybe. Like my family are my biggest cheerleaders, and definitely incepted me with the idea that I am special and can do anything.
But we never talked about being rich, famous, or compared ourselves to exceptional figures. Probably some working class self leveling behaviour at play there, but it left me feeling I could do anything, but not like it was expected.
I wonder if this desire for fame or absolutely recognition is more a phenomenon in the U.S. I don’t know anyone personally who actually desires it.
My little sister was the special one, deserving of all the praise and the you can do anything attitude. I was the fuckup, who would be lucky to graduate high school. I wasn’t discouraged, just not encouraged. A lost cause I guess, ignored mostly except when I needed the occasional bail or whatnot. My sister wanted to pursue her dream of being an actor, but never made it, worked at a theme park to pay the bills while doing student films (long after she was a student), eventually getting divorced and working some copy editing or marketing type gig for a small company. She is not on speaking terms with the family, something about accusing mom of writing a negative comment on the YouTube video of one of those student films. I meanwhile had bungled through college, but with the help of my then girlfriend and now wife ended up as a fairly successful attorney. I’m not the “the” of anything really, but I’m doing pretty good considering my background and low expectations.
I remember having dinner with my family at one point when I was in college. I had started as a music major, but switched to poli sci before going to law school route. I remember my sister saying it was “sad and depressing” that I gave up my dreams of playing music, while she was pursuing her dream of being an actor. Ten years later I have a good income, a job I generally enjoy, a good family, etc. my sister is divorced, never achieved her dreams, is working a soul sucking dead end job, seems close to broke, and is isolated from her family.
I think about that a lot now that I have a baby of my own. I want to encourage the kid, follow your dreams, you can be anything etc. But at the same time I don’t want my kid to end up like my sister. I don’t know the answer. Maybe it’s a middle ground of “chase your dreams, but be reasonable, and life isn’t just about fake and racking up accomplishments, enjoy normal things, don’t pursue fame and fortune as if it’s the only thing that will bring happiness”.
I was talking to my wife about the feeling of underachieving relative to unrealistic childhood goals, and she mentioned that she never thought she was smart or special enough as a child to dream of being THE anything. Like she wanted to work in science, but never took that to mean that she wanted to be THE one to get famous curing cancer or writing a Malcom Gladwell-type book or running her own lab.
I, of course, think she is the most special genius I know, and I think she’d do a great job in any of those situations, but the depressingly realistic expectations she set out of lower self-confidence as a kid have now served her well in terms of job and life satisfaction. It made me sad to hear and angry at her parents for not communicating that she was and is exceptional, but I am also sad and angry that I am not the next Bob Dylan with a universal acceptance of my genius and no need to do anything but write poetry and receive accolades. At the same time, I’d hate to actually live on the road and/or have the life of most ultra-famous writers, but I still feel like I’ve betrayed my childhood potential by not doing so and by being unremarkable.
Hard to say if that disappointment is worse than growing up without being told you even could achieve something like that. My wife is healthy now, but had a lot of shit she had to overcome in her childhood and adult mental health journeys, and while/since I have as well, I don’t think we’ll ever get answers about every different thing that affects our current and past contentedness. So I am just left with the contradictory disappointments of having failed to live up to grand self-determined goals and that no one ever told my wife she could set hers like the incredible person, thinker, and worker she is–even knowing that just may have led to her feeling my current disappointment in place of any she felt as a child.
Long and complicated, no resolution, it’s just been weird to see and think about our two very different experiences.
I think there’s a healthy hue somewhere in between those two maybe. Like my family are my biggest cheerleaders, and definitely incepted me with the idea that I am special and can do anything.
But we never talked about being rich, famous, or compared ourselves to exceptional figures. Probably some working class self leveling behaviour at play there, but it left me feeling I could do anything, but not like it was expected.
I wonder if this desire for fame or absolutely recognition is more a phenomenon in the U.S. I don’t know anyone personally who actually desires it.
My little sister was the special one, deserving of all the praise and the you can do anything attitude. I was the fuckup, who would be lucky to graduate high school. I wasn’t discouraged, just not encouraged. A lost cause I guess, ignored mostly except when I needed the occasional bail or whatnot. My sister wanted to pursue her dream of being an actor, but never made it, worked at a theme park to pay the bills while doing student films (long after she was a student), eventually getting divorced and working some copy editing or marketing type gig for a small company. She is not on speaking terms with the family, something about accusing mom of writing a negative comment on the YouTube video of one of those student films. I meanwhile had bungled through college, but with the help of my then girlfriend and now wife ended up as a fairly successful attorney. I’m not the “the” of anything really, but I’m doing pretty good considering my background and low expectations.
I remember having dinner with my family at one point when I was in college. I had started as a music major, but switched to poli sci before going to law school route. I remember my sister saying it was “sad and depressing” that I gave up my dreams of playing music, while she was pursuing her dream of being an actor. Ten years later I have a good income, a job I generally enjoy, a good family, etc. my sister is divorced, never achieved her dreams, is working a soul sucking dead end job, seems close to broke, and is isolated from her family.
I think about that a lot now that I have a baby of my own. I want to encourage the kid, follow your dreams, you can be anything etc. But at the same time I don’t want my kid to end up like my sister. I don’t know the answer. Maybe it’s a middle ground of “chase your dreams, but be reasonable, and life isn’t just about fake and racking up accomplishments, enjoy normal things, don’t pursue fame and fortune as if it’s the only thing that will bring happiness”.