Bleeding Heart Liberal, Perhaps

I failed an exam recently; actually I failed it twice. It sounds ridiculously miniscule because it’s just a test and, after all, tests do not actually express what someone truly knows or the potential of what they can do.

Yet, this single test made me ask myself whether I even wanted to participate in this course any longer. Additionally, the questioning of taking that class led me to ponder on whether I even desired what this class was offering; consequently, leading to whether I still wanted to pursue my major.

Thus, I was questioning whether I was a failure.

Though, I dislike sounding pitiful and wallowing in negativity, it was instinctual to feel upset; after all, I couldn’t accomplish a feat that others could so easily handle. It was quite a blow to my self-esteem.

I was not only embarrassed by merely failing-I was also the only one who failed-but embarrassed that I considered discontinuing a major that I had once professed such enthusiasm for. Indeed, resigning from my desired career path would be simple and would make my life increasingly calmer.

Moreover, second-guessing myself was also based on others around me. I couldn’t help but compare myself to others who had passed the test. Thoughts of quitting came to mind because I was the only idiot capable of failing so many damn times.

Of course, that was my mistake.

In spite of feeling like a pathetic disappointment, I realized that it wasn’t my first failure and it definitely won’t be my last.

When I was accepted by Binghamton University, I didn’t expect to attend. While my friends were getting accepted into Harvard, Yale, Columbia-and unfortunately so on-I was glancing at my Binghamton mail reproachfully. I even refused to purchase a Binghamton T-shirt for College T-shirt day because I was adamant about detaching myself away from Binghamton University. I had felt that my high school years had wasted away, academically, leaving me depleted and ashamed.

Despite the college process being a personal failure, Binghamton University actually met the criteria that I had originally wanted in a college (excluding being rainy, snowy, and icy). After hearing what it was really like at other various colleges, I now think that Binghamton isn’t too shabby.

Therefore, I never thought that anything valuable could come from failure but, possibly, for reasons yet unknown, I needed to “fail”.

Furthermore, I am no exception; plenty of people are frustrated with themselves as well. Indeed, if I didn’t fail that test then I would not have been able to empathize with friends who were also going through the questioning period, also known as “what if I’m not good enough?” period. It gave me a legit excuse to bash and curse education and life, and, I must say, that release of anger was liberating.

Though it’s frightening to realize that such little happenings in life can impact a larger decision, that a single thread could possibly unravel the whole tapestry, it’s consoling to know that all things are connected, that minor details does affect the whole. For example, perhaps, this failure will provoke me to strive harder or thrust me into a newer direction, since failure shouldn’t be taken as an ends but as a means.