I Know I’m Not Special, and I Still Want to Win

I know I’m not special.

There are probably people smarter than me, more talented than me, more disciplined than me, and better at the things I care about. There always will be.

I’ve thought about that a lot.

When I was younger, I probably liked the idea that I might be different in some important way. I think most people do. You want to believe there’s something about you that sets you apart, something that will eventually make things work out.

Growing up makes that harder to believe.

You meet more people. You see what other people can do. You see people your age doing things you haven’t done yet. Some are more successful. Some seem more confident. Some are simply better at things that you wish you were better at.

And you notice.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t compare myself with other people.

Sometimes I see someone doing well and think, I wish I was there already.

Sometimes I look at someone who is really good at something and wonder whether I’ll ever get to that level.

Sometimes I look at people who seem to have figured things out while I’m still trying to figure out my own direction.

I don’t always like those thoughts, but pretending they aren’t there wouldn’t make them disappear.

The strange thing is, accepting that I’m not special hasn’t made me want less.

It has made me want to try harder.

I don’t mean that I think effort can magically make me the best. It can’t.

There are things I’ll probably never be the best at. There will always be someone ahead of me. There will be people who get somewhere faster, people who have more opportunities, people who are naturally better at certain things, and people who simply get luckier.

That’s life.

I still want to win.

Maybe that’s the part I don’t always say out loud because wanting to win can sound arrogant when you say it too directly.

But I do.

I want to do well.

I want to be proud of what I’ve built with the opportunities I’ve had.

I want to look back and feel that I didn’t just let life happen to me.

I want more from myself.

I don’t know exactly what winning will mean for me in the end. I think it will change as I get older. Right now, it probably has something to do with being financially secure, having a life I actually like, being good at the things I care about, and knowing that I used whatever ability I had instead of wasting it.

Maybe that sounds ordinary too.

That’s fine.

I’ve also learned that trying hard doesn’t guarantee anything.

I’ve failed at things.

Sometimes you can put a lot into something and still not get the result you wanted. You can care about something and still get it wrong. You can try again and still fail.

There isn’t always a beautiful lesson waiting at the end.

Sometimes you just didn’t get what you wanted.

That’s probably one of the harder things to accept because effort feels like it should count for something.

Maybe it does, just not always in the way you hoped.

At least I know when I have tried.

I know what it feels like to keep working on something because I don’t want to leave it unfinished.

I know what it feels like to get annoyed when something doesn’t work.

I know what it feels like to fail and then start thinking about trying again.

And I know there have been times when I could have given more.

That’s important too.

I don’t want to turn every failure into proof that I worked as hard as I could. Sometimes I didn’t. Sometimes I could have done better. Sometimes I wasn’t ready. Sometimes I didn’t know what I was doing.

I’d rather admit that than create a nicer story about myself.

Because if I believe I have already done everything I could, there isn’t much left to improve.

Maybe that’s why I don’t think being ordinary is such a terrible thing anymore.

Being ordinary means I don’t get to assume that things will work out just because I’m meant for something.

I have to actually try.

I have to learn.

I have to get things wrong.

I have to start again.

I have to accept that someone else might be better than me and keep going anyway.

That last part matters.

I don’t want to spend my life waiting until I feel talented enough, confident enough, successful enough, or special enough to take myself seriously.

I probably won’t ever feel completely ready.

And there will probably always be someone better.

So what?

I still have a life to live.

I still have things I want.

I still have things I want to become.

I still have time to find out what I’m capable of.

Maybe I won’t become the person I imagine right now.

Maybe I’ll fail at things I really want.

Maybe some of the things I think will make me happy won’t.

I don’t know.

But I know I don’t want to give up before I find out.

I don’t need to believe I’m special to keep trying.

I don’t need to believe I’m the best to want to win.

I don’t even need to know that I’ll succeed.

I just need to know that I still want it.

And I do.