What I Learned From: Graduate School

If there's one thing I've discovered in this wild rollercoaster ride we call life, it's that no matter how much you know, you're never done learning. And depending upon how perceptive you are, what you're willing to learn, and how right the timing is, a life lesson can come from just about anywhere. A statement I shall now reinforce using my own life as an example.

My experience in grad school was one of the most debilitating and dark periods in my life. It was the first time I had ever been faced with complete and utter failure in any of my aspirations. Sure, I'd gotten lousy grades before. Sure, I'd experienced rejections before. But this was different. I was struggling so much that I wasn't even able to complete the assignments at all. Because I thought there would be more of an overlap between English (my Bachelor's) and Communications (the Master's) than there actually was. Because of that, I was learning about assignments and concepts that I had no previous background in at all, like Annotated Bibliographies. Unfortunately, while I pride myself on the ability to adapt, I am a slow learner at the same time. And there just wasn't enough time to get it right.

So first, I lost my assistantship, then I got Unsatisfactory grades, and by November, I knew I was on my way out. And then was when Imposter Syndrome started rearing its ugly head.

"Why God. Why is this happening? I don't understand. Why would you pull off so many miracles to get me INTO grad school just to have me leave one semester later? All this time, all this money, it was a complete waste of time! And now, I have even more student loans to pay back than I did before. This is just proof that I really am a fraud after all. If I can't get this Masters's, then that just means everything I've ever done was all for nothing!"

But it wasn't. It turns out, God's plans were much bigger for me than academic prowess. For while my self-esteem blended into slurry, my Aspergers's reared its ugly head at the worst possible time, and my finances dove into the red (to the point where I went completely broke a few months after leaving), I ended up questioning my entire life up until that point: all of my triumphs, all of my tragedies, and everything in between. And it was then that I realized a few things.

1. Failing didn't make me a failure. It just made me person who has failed. Also known as being normal.

2. Failing hurt quite a bit, but I'm still here. It's not the end of the world.

3. Failure can be useful for the future. I've learning from the experience in order to avoid similar scenarios later on.

4. But most importantly, that I needed to stop tying my self-worth to my accomplishments.

Self-worth isn't easy to come by, especially for me. But accomplishments, while certainly significant, don't last. Even a guy with hundreds of gold medals will eventually become old news. They're great to look back upon and remember, but they don't offer much in the moment. Same thing with my writing, my race, and everything else about me. It doesn't last. The only consistent source of self-worth in the world comes from God. Once I realized that, I didn't need to look for it anywhere else. Whether I succeed in life or fail, I Know Who I Am.

And that is what I learned.