Eyes tell stories. If you had looked into my eyes on the day of my high school graduation, you would have seen that the last thing I wanted to do after I received my diploma was to ever think about the last four years again. But, I must give them the credit that they are due. They affected me much more than I ever thought was possible. Those four years stripped me. Then they built me up again: stronger, wittier, and more self-aware. Yet, they left me without the most valuable trait that I ever possessed — my determination and drive to do whatever it takes to succeed — my Eye of the Tiger.
Now, I am positive that all who are reading this have watched at least the first of the Rocky movies which, in my personal opinion, is the most iconic and moving movie series of all time. The Eye of the Tiger is a common theme throughout the six movies that shaped my childhood, even if it is only directly stated in Rocky III. To summarize, a man who came from nothing used pure perseverance and hunger for victory to overcome impossible odds. Similarly, I was taught that with sheer willpower, anything was possible. But, let me just say: Rocky Balboa made it look far easier than it is in reality.
Burnouts are awful and lots of kids experience them at some point in their high school or college careers. But it’s especially tough when you find yourself burnt out by the end of your sophomore year of high school, much too early in the game. But up until then, I was on top of the world, always rising to the challenges that I faced and defeating them with a sick thrill that left those around me impressed, yet sometimes borderline worried. They were waiting for the inevitable. At the peak of my burnout, I felt the odds were innumerably stacked against me, with no feasible way out. My life was a jumbled mess, with no sense of direction or purpose, that continued for the following two years. I had not yet learned how to go the distance — how to spread out my energy to complete the tasks at hand without consuming the totality of the precious resource my mind and body could muster up.
Throughout this past summer, my sole objective has been to regain my Eye of the Tiger in preparation for the next years of my life. I want my future classmates and professors to be able to look into my eyes and say, “she has fire.” But in all honesty, I tried everything, from working out more than is probably healthy, to keeping a journal — anything I could think of to keep that spark in me alive. But what I found to be the most effective method is to go back to the beginning — to find my “why?” and to remember my dreams of the past and find a way to make them reality.
My imagination as a child was, shall we say, expansive. For example, during playtime, I created complex plot lines between Ken and Barbie that would put Nicholas Sparks to shame. My family, always feeding that active imagination, gave me tools to work with, whether it be watercolors, a camera, a sewing kit, throwing me into nature camps in the Koʻolau mountains, you name it. But the most important tool that they gave me was their support. They always voiced their approval when I did something right, focusing on positive reinforcement as their way to encourage my growth. I drank in the praise, and some may say it became an addiction. As I grew, and playtime weaned its way out of my life, academic validation became my new craving. Tossing out my own health, both mental and physical, I eagerly entered science fairs, history fairs, essay contests, etc., none of which were offered by any of the middle schools that I happened to attend as we moved around the country. And I won — over and over again. The high of receiving that trophy, or medal, or check was exhilarating, and at times I find that I have a fervent desire to relive those days, just to feel that sense of pride and hear the praise from others. But back then it was easy. Trying to continue that cycle of giving up my health and wellbeing for validation in high school began my burnout. I had to be the best. But earning one bad grade led to receiving a lower test score than I would allow myself to earn, and I quickly stopped caring. It hit me hard when I realized what I had lost. The withdrawal from a heavy addiction to academic validation is worse than any drug.
But now, watching with a bird’s eye view, looking down and back on every action, I see that it all needed to happen. “The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows…I don’t care how tough you are; it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard ya hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” Sylvester Stallone, Rocky Balboa. And keep on moving forward is exactly what I plan to do. Taking the life that I have already experienced, and learning from every decision, every mistake, every hit, is the only way to continue on. I may not yet have found my “why?” but I sure do have my Eye of the Tiger back. So, when you face yourself in a mirror, and don’t see that ambition, that hunger, that Eye of the Tiger in yourself anymore, go back to the beginning, refresh your perspective, and maybe even pop in a Rocky movie in order to be able to say: Come on life, keep swinging. The fire is raging. I’m ready.
Mind of a Freshman is an Opinion column written by one or two first-year Stevens students to discuss life experiences during their time at Stevens, and other related subject matter.
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