Stress and Anxiety: The Only Roads to Success?

Type-A students are concerned about grades, sports, extra-curriculars, and future college admissions. We are very much perfectionists, obsessive about awards, recognition and academic achievement. Type-A students get labeled as working too hard, and being too focused on school and its outcome. And I admit, there is a lot of vice that comes with the virtue of caring so much about everything.

While it may seem admirable to be this dedicated to your own success, the reality is that it’s exhausting. When every detail of your life is under the dictatorship of an unknown future or the fear of failure, it makes dreaming of apathy an appealing pastime. The competitiveness of the typical Type A students, like me, often achieves success, but it  comes with stress, exhaustion, and insecurity. 

I always worry about not being the best and who’s doing better than me. It’s hard for me to grasp the concept that some kids know that they might not be the smartest, or the best, and they accept this and it does not negatively affect their self-image. I envy the fact that they seem more secure, and that they don’t have a driving need to compare themselves to others. They seem able to celebrate when they win or lose, and it doesn’t change how they feel about themselves. But I have been so reliant on academic and athletic validation to shape my own self-worth since a very young age. Due to this, I struggle to evaluate my athletic and academic performances by myself. I never know if I played well or did well on a test until a coach or teacher tells me so. 

This lack in my ability to self-assess my worth began early. In kindergarten I had two teachers. Everyday, I would be taken aside with one teacher to read nonfiction chapter books while the rest of the class read picture books with the other teacher. Throughout grade school, I would be taken out of class to work with three or four other highly intelligent kids in the Gifted and Talented Program. Growing up I was always told that I was the best in my class, and although that comment felt great to receive, it also placed pressure on me to uphold that title. My class is a lot larger now than it was in Kindergarten, and even though I am still a top student, I still feel pressured to maintain my standing.

The same thing is true in sports. I was one of the best players of my age on my town’s travel soccer club, and so I began to move to academy level teams where I continued to be considered one of the better players. Because of this, I was often praised highly by most of my coaches, and I increasingly relied on the approval of my coaches and parents for my confidence. Additionally, the stress of the recruiting process also weighs heavily on me as I am always worrying about scouts, camps, and showcases despite many aspects of the process being far out of my control. I feel such intense pressure to perform well in front of these coaches because it’s harrowing for me to think that I could dedicate years of my life to soccer and not be able to play collegially.

While this pressure is similar to that of many type-A students like myself, I often wonder if my self-image would be any different if I were male. As a young woman, I’ve often been told that I am too intense, outspoken, and demanding, that I don’t smile enough and that I work too hard. While many type-A girls my age can attest to hearing the same things, these traits are seldom commented upon in boys. Some of them are even praised. How would my own view of myself be altered if I, too, were commended for these traits instead of criticized? 

Instead, I feel as though I am unable to accurately assess my own abilities and performance. I am often told that I am “too harsh on myself”, but then when I think I am doing something well, I begin to wonder if I am not being self-critical enough. This spiral has only gotten worse with age, as I take the max amount of AP classes, and I have joined a higher-level academy team where we are all players of the same caliber. 

It’s possible, I know, to think differently about my academics and my soccer playing, to have a belief that says I am not a failure if I don’t achieve exactly what I have in mind. But I’m too far gone to change my way of thinking that monumentally. The amount of effort that it would take in order for me to rewire my brain to be less intense would be more strenuous than keeping my current stressful mindset. And, even if I were able to miraculously adopt this new mindset, other kids like me wouldn’t. The idea that there are people that are achieving more than me and getting further ahead would haunt me. After years of being told that I’m outstanding on the field and in the classroom, along with the countless amount of hours and effort I’ve put into being successful, my ego can’t handle the notion that someone out there is working harder and achieving more than me.  

Intellectually, I know that some people are better. But like so many young, ambitious women, I can’t seem to stop paying the price of anxiety and stress to get where I want to be. I’m not saying that’s good–or bad–but I am saying that it’s a difficult life, despite the awards and achievements. Dedicating yourself to being the best at whatever it is you’re pursuing is hard. But so is watching others achieve that success knowing that it could have been yours. 

We have to choose our hard. If you want to lead a less worry-some life, you must also be okay with letting go of some of your ambitions; if you want to pursue your ambitions to the fullest, you must be okay with letting go of some of your sanity.