Keianna

The biggest misconception I’ve ever held is that if you’re not sprinting toward your goals then you’re not moving forward. That single thought spawned my very real and prominent fear that I’m not growing fast enough as a person and people are going to forget me.

Whenever I hit a creative roadblock the first thing I unjustly scold myself for is wasting time. I have a Rushmore moment where I think something along the lines of, They’ve saved Latin. What did you ever do? I know comparing myself to others isn’t fair because not everyone has the same starting point or circumstances, but sometimes I just can’t help it.

I just realized how much I relate to the character Max Fischer in the sense that no matter how much we try to hide it we’re both seeking external validation. Max does so with his abundance of clubs and extracurricular actives, while I have my writing and creative endeavors.

I don’t think this is something to be ashamed of. Most people want to know that their work has affected someone—preferably in a positive way. I’m not a bad person for wanting people to see my work, and Max isn’t a bad person for wanting to be in the yearbook, right?

Maybe not, but I know from experience that placing too much importance in external validation is harmful. It’s why I had to take a break from Instagram—to keep anxiety attacks at bay brought on by feeling my feed didn’t look just right. It’s the reason I’ve locked myself in my room and forced myself to be creative, even though I wasn’t in the best mindset to. Sometimes, I get so caught up in numbers that I forget that I used to have so much fun doing some of the things I do.

I’ve let myself believe that I only have a very limited window of time to be successful in life. I once heard someone say that “If you don’t start doing what you love young you might as well never start.” That made me feel so old. Yes, I’m 17, but in art years I’m like a grandma already. A grandma who let her window of opportunity close.

People in my life are helping me to stop thinking of life that way. Some of them have made their dreams come true at what I thought was the prehistoric age of 45. People my own age are doing big things, but I’m letting myself see them as inspiration instead of competition. That’s the best decision I’ve made for myself in a while.

My creative endeavors are my Rushmore, and I think it’s time to stop asking myself “What have you ever done?” and start saying “Oh, that’s great. I wrote a hit play and directed it, so I’m not sweating it.” ♦