The weight of greatness

I want to be Great, but the thought of it leaves a distinctly sour taste in my mouth if I utter those words. And no, not out of fear of the tall poppy syndrome that’s pervasive in Australia — but maybe out of a fear that’s more profound and complex than “I don’t want to be too much for others to handle.”

I have had a fear of being “too much”. I was told to lower my voice because my opinions lacked the significance needed to be a part of a deeper conversation. Being told to dress down because of my jewellery, hair, or entire self-expression wouldn’t land me the roles or expectations I want. I could feel the rolling eyes, quiet sighs and shifting seats — the unwelcome is deeply rooted in their apparent distaste. Who these opinions come from doesn’t matter, but they affect your personhood as it’s still forming during adolescence. Chipping away slowly but surely at your potential, and with the understanding that you can only be as good as what others say you can be.

These are the things my parents did.

Growing up, you realise those opinions stem from a darker place of envy. In their snide comments, you can see the question floating around their heads, “Why would you choose to live like this, given we gifted you the life we never had?” And you realise that they believe I’m wasting the life I have on frivolous activities and “Western ideologies”. This is referring to my queerness, citing that I’m living selfishly and asking to live life harder than what’s deemed necessary. And it’s that realisation that they don’t have my best interests at heart and that I can be (and am) much more than they want me to be, that I’ll refuse to live my life apologetic of my decisions, expressions, and defining characteristics.

So, I want to be Great.

The fear of being too much hasn’t completely disappeared, and imposter syndrome strikes occasionally. So what’s stopping me from truly becoming Great? To become someone known for their efforts and personhood, to be remembered fondly or envied by the people in their field. To have my community look up to this version of myself as a pioneer of several endeavours, paving the way for others to follow in my footsteps. To have my life documented on a Wikipedia page and my writing, my art found in the essays of students who admire my work — my ideas.

To start, I don’t necessarily care for success. I see my accomplishments simply as markers of significant or insignificant rewards for my effort and tenacity. Recognising that I crave the moreness that the world has to offer, I hit one milestone after another. I don’t care for the monetary benefits I may receive from my success. I don’t want to be rich and make more money for the sake of it; living comfortably without having to think deeply about my upcoming bills is all I desire in that regard.

But the pessimism deeply rooted in me, or the lack of motivation that persists, sometimes mediocrity doesn’t seem so bad. To meander through life and worry about how I might spend my evenings after a 9 5 or which event I’ll go to over the weekend, only to have yet another night in. By remaining insignificant to the masses, I will become a footnote to the few who will know me. Being a footnote really doesn’t seem so bad; at least I can be referred back to in a light that was simple yet notable enough to be noted. Or maybe not just a footnote, but an anecdote — explaining the small yet profound interaction that brought introspective ideas where I may not be named, but those who know would know it was me.

That doesn’t seem so bad until I realise I want more than just an anecdote. I want a chapter written about me, not just in one person’s book but in many.

I want to be recognised.

This may stem from the peanuts of recognition for the effort I received from my parents growing up. Small applause, followed by not another spare thought of said achievement, was the norm. However, I desired the positive acknowledgement of the attributes that made me who I am. Where the compliments are deeply long and winding, they go off into a sphere of metaphors and analogies to describe just one characteristic.

People who understand you on a deeper level, who notice things that you usually wouldn’t pick up on and tell you, “You know, I don’t think you realise you…” are the people I love to have around me. It offers insightful information into the relationship, who you are and how they might see you. Feeling seen and seeing is integral to my relationships, recognising the qualities I seek in others and mirroring them in my life.

But being seen is a terrifying feeling as well. That someone you may look up to can see some of your less desirable qualities and call you out for it. It hurts in a way that can turn your whole worldview upside down, rethinking every action you’ve taken, every comment you’ve made and every thought you’ve had. In some ways, becoming Great means sifting through many comments people may make and deciding which ones apply to who you are and what you stand for. I don’t like to think that everyone is out to get me; that’s when ignorance starts to form and baseless pride takes root. Staying grounded is critical to the discernment necessary to sort through those critiques.

But what keeps me grounded? What keeps me from straying too far from the path and back into the fear my parents had instilled in me, finding out that I lived my life wrong.

No.

I’ll learn how to surrender myself to the ideals that public opinion craves from me, but not completely. I want to be Great, but I can’t do that without having the court of opinion have some influence and make the valid critiques that are necessary to my being. I won’t blindly follow the likes of people who don’t have my interests at heart, but that unfortunately will come with experience. Experience that I don’t have at the moment. For now, I will make mistakes based on what that might mean to me in the current climate, and I will in the future. Learning will never stop, no matter how much experience I gain as time passes and starts to weigh on the wrinkles that’ll appear and the grey hairs that’ll grow.

I want to live to become Quietly Great.

In the sense that my influence is small yet profound. To know that I touched the lives of many in different ways. When people see me, they see qualities they want to emulate or lifestyles they want to take inspiration from. To be okay with mediocrity, where I know when to step back from the mess that public scrutiny can become. Learning how to surrender myself fully to the public can be ideal if the world weren’t so respectfully disrespectful, hiding behind screens and saying whatever thought that passes. I’ll learn as I grow old, but that won’t be the reason I become old and spiteful. And I have every reason to become such, with the people who brought me into this world becoming the first to beat me down. I don’t want to have to constantly say “Fuck you,” to the world, drawing from resentment to fuel my life source and carrying a heavy weight everywhere I go.

I want to be Great for myself and for the people around me. I can hold up a mirror to understand who I am from the perspective of others and reflect it so they can do the same.

I want to be Great to know that I’ve made an impact.