Moving on from my Biggest Accomplishment

And why it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done

College hit me like a train.

I flew off the tracks after the impact of the first semester. My mind was reeling after trying to adjust to moving across the country. I had no idea what I was doing, what I was trying to accomplish, and what I had to do to even get there. When the dust settled, I picked myself up, brushed myself off, and decided that I would go to dental school. That was three years ago.

But ever since I got my acceptance into dental school, I feel like I entered a limbo. I graduated college a year ago, so I couldn’t throw myself into frantically studying. My job’s hours were cut due to the pandemic. Dental school doesn’t start until autumn. I had this huge hole left in my life, because while chasing my goals and dreams, I never actually bothered to think about what would happen after I achieved them.

This isn’t the first time I’ve felt empty. I felt this empty when I graduated college, and when I took my entrance exam for dental school, and when I got my first job, and on, and on. Even worse? I keep telling myself the next goal I hit will make me more satisfied. I know it’s not true, but I keep telling myself that because I don’t want to be stagnant. I want to grow, and that’s the core issue. I don’t know how to celebrate my growth. I don’t find it important. I only value the achievement itself. My personal value stems from success, not growth. And when the happiness from achieving a marker of success lasts for an hour or two, what am I left with?

Life is a journey, not a destination.

I, like so many people around me, spent so much time stressing and working toward the next destination that I forgot about how much of myself I poured into the journey. I worked so hard that sometimes my metaphorical shoes tore, or I slipped and fell, and I continued to get back up after nursing my wounds because the end destination never left my sight.

I’m at the destination now. I’m at the peak of the mountain, at the finish line of the Iditarod, at the moon during the Space Race. With it comes horrifying self-doubt if I even deserved the success or if I really wanted to achieve my goal in the first place.

Something has to change.

I was taught that success is what we should strive for. Every time we taste achievement, we get a “congratulations” or a pat on the back, or if it’s really substantial, maybe even a nice dinner. I never learned how to truly celebrate my success — just that it was important. Somehow, I turned myself into Pavlov’s dog and trained myself to simply put in the work and not treat any of my efforts nor accomplishments as important. I told my parents not to fly across the country for my college graduation, because a future white coat ceremony would be more meaningful. I cried after my grueling five hour entrance exam because I didn’t get a top 1% score, and ignored the fact that I was in the top 10% of scores overall and top 4% on what is often considered the most difficult section. I had a blasé attitude about things that are supposed to be a big deal.

I had removed the human factor from my own life. Naturally, my own personal self-worth became reliant on my next achievement as I treated myself as a machine. I didn’t celebrate the uphill battle, so why would I celebrate the view from the top?

The Next Mountain

I found my next big goal, and this time it’s not school or career-oriented. It’s me-oriented.

I’m not sure if I’ve ever had a goal that’s truly me-oriented. Sure, I have a goal to get healthier and lose weight. Sure, I have a goal to dress better. But deep down, parts of those goals also have to do with how people perceive me and wanting to change that. Celebrating both my accomplishments and the steps I take toward them is utterly selfish and egotistic, but I’ve deprived myself for so long.

Success and growth aren’t the same thing, but success is a result of growth. We choose to move forward after success, and we choose to grow more. If we find ourselves coasting off our success, we aren’t growing.

I am going to move forward and choose to enjoy the journey, even if it’s rough. I’m going to smile after finishing a tough project, because the work was worth it, and I’ll reward myself by reading a little extra that night. If I hit a milestone, I’ll do something tangible, such as buying a piece of jewelry or a blanket, so I have proof that achieving goals enriches my life.

I’ve excused my accomplishments enough. I told myself that everyone graduates college, or that getting into dental school was expected of me. That’s not the case, and I know that.

When we choose to celebrate our accomplishments, and not the steps we took to get there, we’re choosing to forget the real achievement. Our accomplishments aren’t possible without the journey, but with the journey, we accomplish so much.

I want to be able to look back on a past year and say that I leaped over hurdles and challenged myself to do better, and I want to be satisfied with the journey I took to be where I am today. We can choose to stand on the top of that mountain, or we can decide that climb isn’t over and make that mountain even higher. And we can also choose to enjoy that climb. The choice is up to us.