On this page
I should never have gone to Harvard.
That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy my time. Or create wonderful, impactful friendships with the most incredible humans. I certainly did.
But…when I look backwards, at who I was at the time and what I really needed and valued…it feels clear that Harvard wasn’t the best fit for me.
I was recruited harder by other schools. I had amazing interactions with potential teammates, coaches, and alumni at other schools -- connections that made me feel seen. Like I was already part of something.
I didn’t get that same feeling at Harvard. Not from the coaches, not from the other students I met during my visits.
But Harvard is a difficult place for an 18-year-old kid to say no to.
So I accepted the offer.
I remember being in the car with my mom, sitting outside of my high school, when I made the decision. She was excited for me. What parent wouldn’t be? My teachers congratulated me. I got that smile, that proud look from all of the adults in my life.
But on the inside, something in me went quiet. Something felt off. Unseen. Disappointed. I noticed it. And I ignored it. I told myself it was nerves. But it wasn’t nerves. It was the part of me that could feel the vibration of a better match, a truer fit, somewhere else.
Why did I make the choice that I did, even when it felt wrong? All reasons I would tell my younger self to ignore. Approval from others. Status. Close to home. I even convinced myself that it would be a bigger “challenge” for me to go somewhere that I wasn’t recruited heavily. I justified it as a vehicle for pushing me harder and testing my limits.
But those were justifications. A rationale formed by my brain, after I had ignored my heart. Justifiable reasons for my choice -- ones that everyone could understand. Ones they could approve of.
And therein lies the rub. Because I’ve lived much of my life seeking the approval of others. Asking them what they thought, then doing what seemed “sensible”. De-valuing what I thought or felt. What did I know? There was risk in disappointing other people -- I thought it meant that I wouldn’t receive love.
So I lived my life according to the ideas, thoughts, and preferences of others. And I learned that the safe choice always gets applause. It makes sense. The whole room confirms you did the right thing.
But here’s what nobody wants to admit about playing it safe: your choice lets everyone else off the hook too. The whole room wins. Nobody has to question the safety they’ve run to in their lives. And when a small voice inside disagrees, one that forces you to face yourself, it’s easy to override it. The room is already cheering you on.
And every override strengthens that muscle. Then you’re 30...then 40...and you’ve gotten very good at overriding it. One day you wake up to find you’ve built a life that feels nothing like who you are on the inside.
I know exactly where that reflex came from. I was 16 when my dad lost his job. He was a middle-aged computer software designer, unemployed from an industry that was rapidly skewing younger. I remember watching him up late at night, at his desk, trying to figure out what to do now. I remember the concern on his face. I remember how much I watched him age in that year he spent searching for his next chapter. His new identity. And weighing who he really wanted to be with his obligations as a husband and father, with a son going to college in a year.
The stress and anxiety must have been overwhelming for him. Even as a 16-year-old kid, I could feel it.
That’s when I decided that safety beats risk. I needed to step up for the family. I needed to focus on making money, and building financial stability. To carry my parents and repay them for all the years they carried me.
Over time, I’ve discovered that I wasn’t alone. Far from it. Many people are solving for things they think will bring them happiness or relief but ultimately left them feeling empty inside. Some of the most successful people I work with are still collecting congratulations for decisions that cost them the thing they actually wanted.
So if you’re serious about being your authentic self, there’s a question worth sitting with:
What have you been congratulated for that cost you what nobody else could see?
You might also like
Show all posts
