I’ve written a few posts over the past week, ranging from getting left on read by a stranger to just how much I suck at sports. So, for this one, I figured I’d stick with the theme of sucking at things. Except instead of trying to convince myself that it’s okay to suck, I’m taking the opposite approach: maybe it’s not okay to suck, at least not in today’s meritocratic society.
Here’s a little something about me, possibly TMI, and probably something nobody asked for. I’ve sucked at sports for as long as I can remember. I was on a competitive swim team as a kid, and I was consistently the slowest one there. I didn’t even care enough to try particularly hard to get better. It also took me three whole days to learn how to ride a bike, instead of just hopping on and figuring it out like a normal kid apparently could.
All of this should be enough evidence that I absolutely suck at sports. Little me couldn’t have cared less, probably because she hadn’t yet developed the mental capacity to feel ashamed of herself. Current me, however, can feel the embarrassment deep in my bones whenever I’m the last one on the team. There was a time when I was perfectly happy and content with my life. I was carefree, blissfully unaware of how much I sucked. Until, well, I became aware.
Hockey season is back. Unfortunately, I still suck, despite having had another year to improve. Although, to be fair, I haven’t exactly been the most dedicated athlete. I spent months off the ice simply because, well, meh, I didn’t feel like it. And now I’m paying the price.
Let me paint a picture of just how embarrassing this whole thing felt. I still showed up to the game, either because of FOMO or because I genuinely wanted to be part of the team. Probably a bit of both. My original plan was to stay on the sidelines and cheer everyone on. But deep down, I wanted to be out there on the ice with my teammates. I hesitated to put on my gear because, underneath all that equipment, I was still the same person who sucked at hockey. And apparently, I was so ashamed of that person that I could barely stand looking at myself. After the first game, I took off my gear, almost as if changing back into my normal clothes could somehow make the embarrassment disappear. It worked for a little while, at least. Then my teammates encouraged me to gear up again for the second game, so I did. The moment I stepped back onto the ice, the shame came rushing right back.
Suddenly, the confident person I knew myself to be became awkward in every way imaginable. I call it a state of heightened self-consciousness. Every glance felt like a judgment of my worth. I somehow forgot who I was, as though my entire sense of self had dissolved into embarrassment and shame. It’s fascinating how something as simple as changing clothes could completely shift the way I perceived myself.
I don’t know whether this intense feeling was socially conditioned or whether I was just being overly sensitive. But man, that level of self-consciousness was NOT fun. It sent me straight into fight-or-flight mode. My heart rate shot into the 120s, and even my watch decided to warn me that something was off. I completely froze on the ice, as if my soul had temporarily left my body.
And it’s not just sports. My most recent episode of sucking involved scoring a whopping 60% on an exam. And oh, it wasn’t just one bad exam. I’d been consistently underperforming for quite a while. It took me a long time to convince myself that doing poorly didn’t mean I was terrible at everything. Eventually, I started caring a little less about how much I sucked. Ironically, that was when I actually started doing better, both academically and in life in general.
I’m against meritocracy. I consider myself a pretty chill person, yet somehow, I still put a ridiculous amount of effort into studying for a single exam that barely matters in the grand scheme of things. Not necessarily because I’m passionate about learning, but because I desperately want to avoid the shame of doing poorly. At some point, it stopped being about learning and became about proving that I’m not inferior to everyone else. So much for being chill. And as much as I’d love to proudly declare, “I don’t care,” I can’t quite say that about every aspect of my life. The funny thing is, I can’t even remember when I started buying into the very meritocratic values I claim to reject.
Anyway, I admit it. I suck at hockey. Maybe just for now. Maybe forever. I also suck at writing. At this point, I don’t even know what I’m writing about anymore. But one thing I do know is that I love writing. And maybe I love hockey too, which might explain why I became so painfully self-conscious in the first place. So, what’s next? I guess I’ll have to accept that I suck and stop pretending I don’t care. Because clearly, I do. Maybe one day, I’ll stop feeling so ashamed of being bad at something, even if I never actually get good at it.
Sadly, it’s still not okay for me to suck. I just can’t seem to make peace with it. As much as I hate to admit it, I can’t stand the shame of being less capable than everyone else. Maybe one day I’ll become that effortlessly zen person who can shrug it off and say, “Eh, it’s no big deal.” But clearly, I’m not there yet.
So, I’ll keep working on myself, both in hockey and in everything else. Maybe I’ll get better. Maybe I won’t. Either way, I guess the first step is to recognize when my self-consciousness starts getting out of hand and tell it to fuck off. Thanks for tuning in to yet another episode of me ranting about my life. Happy winter sports season!
