If you know me, you are probably aware I was fortunate to have been raised in a well off household, by supportive, successful parents that practically gave me the world. Not in a sense that I was spoiled materially, more so through affection, attention, guidance, and the like. Needless to say, I’m indebted to them and have a strong Will to use everything given to me to make an impact on the world equal to or greater than that of my parents. That said, as I entered adulthood, I began to feel the need to reject any conception, from myself or others, that I was weak or coddled or soft and was incapable of facing the tribulations my upbringing afforded shelter from. Of course I was still willing to accept convenience and handouts, at least in part, but never without hesitation. This feeling became much stronger after getting my first real job. It’s still a halfway house towards full self-reliance, but at least now, the independence is everything I’d hoped for and then some.
This guttural, imprecise desire to make something of myself is the result of many compounding forces. It’s the natural desire for independence, and to prove I can be more than the sum of my parts, and faint, sporadic, yet looming feelings of grandiosity, and a sense of urgency fueled by impatience. I believe it is valid. It is also heavy, unyielding, and somewhat obsessive. I don’t know if it’s a common feeling – I assume not. Nonetheless it is something I engage with daily. I expect it to nag at me until I make something of myself, whatever that means. I’ll know it when I feel it.
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