10 years ago, I was asked whether I had the strength to be a Psychologist during my interview for the Clinical Psychology Master’s programme at Christ University. At the time, I had prepared myself for all kinds of interview questions, but until that moment, I had never really considered whether I had the strength to be a Psychologist.
However, there was one thing I knew for certain – strength was a quality I did not falter in. Even though I didn’t feel like the boldest or most confident person in that room full of hopeful students, I did feel like I was amongst the ones with the most strength.
Finding Strength In Adversity
When I look back at my years as a teenager, I begin to wonder when did I develop the strength I thought I possessed? Was it in early adolescence when I was faced with the challenge of accepting my parents’ separation and my father’s apathy towards my five siblings and me? Was it when I plummeted into an unhealthy pattern of bunking classes, lying to my family; when my attendance was so low and my grades so poor that everyone I knew had lost complete faith in me? Or was it later on, when I became committed to proving that I was more than my mistakes and dedicated all my energy to improving my academic abilities and immersed myself into studies to a point of obsession?
Did I draw my strength from the first time I topped my class or the first time I failed an exam? I believe it was the latter.
Life has taught me that there is no better teacher than failure; she is not kind or tolerant. Her sting is painful but the memory of her lesson remains with you for a lifetime. Failure taught me strength. Failure showed me how to find courage.
Falling Into An Abyss Of Failure
I didn’t grow up in a conventional household and I took on the responsibilities of an adult very early in life. My family was going through tumultuous times as I navigated adolescence – my parents’ break up coupled with a series of traumatic events that my family witnessed put me in a very precarious position as a young teen.
Unfortunately, when I joined high school, I stumbled into a world I had never been exposed to before. I quickly became associated with what could be best described as the ‘bad crowd’ and found myself spiralling down a dark hole of truant behaviours and unhealthy choices.
From drinking at an early age to skipping school for days, I lost all sense of what was good for me. I had failed almost every exam in my 11th grade and my attendance was the lowest amongst the 50 students in my class. I did not know the names of most of my classmates – because I spent more time out of class than in it.
I was a failure to them and myself. A teacher once even pointed out to me that I didn’t deserve to be in that school because my character wasn’t good enough. Should she have spoken to a 15-year-old girl who was going through a very difficult time in her life like that? Probably not. But, she did. It crushed my self-esteem and ultimately, I dropped out of school because I couldn’t bear to go through the shame of sitting in a room full of people who judged me.
I often question whether a counsellor might have helped me deal with some of the conflicting emotions I was going through. If I had been provided with support instead of judgement and guidance instead of criticism – would I have had a better chance at getting through that year?
Unfortunately, at that time, the college I attended wasn’t equipped with a counselling department.
Later in life, when I myself was a member of counselling departments at schools, I saw the value life skills education and counselling brought to the overall educational experience for every student, not just the ones going through difficult times.
Daring To Dream: My Journey Out Of The Abyss
I am not sure what it was exactly that drove me to make a decision to press the restart button in my life. Perhaps it was my mother’s unwavering spirit? Perhaps it was divine intervention? I lean towards the former. My mother is the kind of woman who does not think of failure as an option. It is one of the greatest gifts she has given me. The single most important family inheritance is my fear of failure.
Muhammad Ali was once asked if he liked training. His response?
“I hated every minute of training, but I said to myself, ‘Don’t quit, suffer now, and live the rest of your life as a champion.” His mantra was centred around the idea that pain was integral to success. I have found that most of my life has been governed by a similar notion – that there are no shortcuts to success and if you’re willing to take the long route, your dreams don’t have to be unrealistic fantasies you conjure up in your head. They can be as real as the air you breathe.
Eventually, I made the decision to stop wallowing in my own misery and I reapplied to high school the following year. This time around, my textbooks became my best friends and my pen was my holy grail. I had come to realise that they were my ticket to a life of success and respect.
I discovered I had a keen interest in psychology and research. I was fascinated by sociology and political science and the humanities became my beacon of hope. As I moved from sadness and self-pity to frustration and a desire to overcome my failures, I developed a sense of perseverance that has been my best friend for the last 15 years.
With every exam I aced, I wiped out the memories of failure. In my second year of college, I was felicitated for being the highest scoring student in a class of more than 80 – this was at the same college that had previously labelled me as an unruly teenager. It was a remarkable moment for me but I knew there were many more mountains to climb.
Over the course of the next ten years, I developed three skills that helped me make my dreams a reality. Problem-solving, decision making and perseverance – I used them to guide my life and navigate my way to a successful career. Bit by bit, I build the life I wanted to live. I was able to leave behind the shadow of the troubled teenage girl and emerge on the other side with a successful career in tow. I was asked to be the CEO of a digital marketing company by the time I was 29, and this was one of the single most rewarding moments of my life. I had been on an adrenaline-fueled journey for years and it felt like I had finally arrived.
I gave up the management role after a year because of a number of events that were out of my control and also because I felt that I would never be truly successful until I pursued my passion to be a full-time writer; because it was the only thing that gave me a real sense of purpose.
What I have learnt from my experiences is that what we go through in our adolescence can shape our lives unconditionally, but if we’re lucky, our struggles can become stepping stones. We can use our failures to fuel our victories.
I also believe that the right emotional support and guidance can play a crucial role in this journey. Teaching young adults how to maneuver difficult circumstances and how to tackle peer pressure or family instability can have a tremendous impact on their early emotional development and coping behaviours. I am sure there are millions of young girls who have had experiences similar to mine, and I strongly believe they would greatly benefit from the support and emotional encouragement a safe and well-planned counselling system can offer, especially within the school environment.