'Pressure is a privilege' - Billie Jean King
I was in a state of mental turmoil last week. Seems like months, years ago now. I have transformed my attitude, adopting a new mantra given by a feminist icon, tennis legend and hopefully the next Dalai Lama.
A change in perspective was much needed. I was not suffering, certainly not rolled out on a medieval rack and screw. Really, I was being pushed, stretched, grown because I have been given wonderful opportunities and because there are people who believe in me.
I had wished for all the struggling to cease and my growing to-do list to be empty. But where would that leave me? Relieved for a minute, but bored by two. In my catastrophising flurry, I lost sight of the why behind my long list of tasks. But I love doing these things. I love reading challenging things, I love writing challenging essays, I love taking on extra work outside the curriculum to feed my curiosity, I love responding to criticism and reflecting. Every opportunity given to me is borne of privilege. Someone has to walk twenty miles a day to a well, everyday. I get to write and learn and grow. Who am I to even begin to complain!
Tasks become difficult because of expectations - if I do not meet deadlines, show academic development etc, whoever reads my work may be disappointed. But I have been given this work because it is well within my reach. Someone believes I can do it. All I have to do is prove them right.
Five-months-ago-me would be so happy to be in my shoes, so proud of herself. And the me one-year-ago, me five-years-ago. I have come a very long way, dealt with trying circumstances. And I did not do it all through complaining! I have another busy week, but I am dusting myself off and going again. Light work.
