Growing up, I wanted to be “the best.” Whether it be a pilot, firefighter, or investment banker, I needed to be the best. I was compelled to be better than the rest – always wanting and seeking hierarchical successes.
I competed over grades in school. Another’s “A” threatened my goals. Before I got into graduate school, I ruthlessly pestered professors with questions and looked for ways to improve my final scores. But I couldn’t compete in the hard sciences (i.e., chemistry, physics, and biology).
I purchased designer clothes like Diesel that were more expensive than others could afford. A sweater that cost over $125 was seen as a necessary cost to stand out. But secretly, I couldn’t afford them either — there were tens of thousands in student loans.
I played poker with my friends, and wanted to make more money than they ever could. First place was a sweet spot, and I reveled in knocking them out of the tournaments. But I lost money more often than I’d like, and felt ethically miserable when winning their money.
I wrote articles that were published in various journals and newspapers. My words created conversation and controversy — exactly as intended. But I saw writers my age publishing in Rolling Stone and massive online news sites. There were others publishing books, when I could merely squeak out 700-word columns.
I pictured running marathons with packs of people behind me. I imagined passing more and more people. But when I ran them, thousands finished before me.
My younger years were filled with the pressure to conform and my budget hurt because of it. Each time “the best” motivated me, I spent more money, competed in unhealthy ways, and looked for ways to put people down.
When I look back at my childhood, I realize how susceptible to American exceptionalism I was. My country was “the best” — better than the rest. And I needed to be a player in that world. I wanted to be a patriot and represent my country, as another best.
Eventually, I got burned out fighting to be the best; then, something powerful happened. In relinquishing this drive, I discovered that there’s always someone better than me (or you). There are nearly 7 billion people on this beautiful globe. Talent, expertise, and “the best” is everywhere you look.
As I let go of this need to be the best, I embraced another emotion. It was something like peace combined with acceptance. But not about being lesser than. It sounded like, “I’m okay as is, and I’m happy doing my personal best.”
There was a secondary consequence of letting go of my compulsion to be the best. My spending plummeted.
I stopped spending as much on food and travel. I sold my car, and got rid of hundreds of dollars in monthly costs associated with ownership (from gasoline to insurance to maintenance to car loan payments). My clothing costs fell, and are nearly $0 every month.
Ironically, I felt healthier and saved more money than ever. The buzz of inadequacy that had promulgated my inner voice quieted. I started to feel comfortable and humbled — happy to be me.
Consumption and affordability are warped and twisted by our drive to be the best. Imagine what your life would be like if you stopped competing with others reputations and talents. It influences everything about our lives.
What if we throw away this cultural norm and embrace who we are today? Would the brand new blazer or dress be as important? Would we finally be happy?
This reminds me of a similar thought pattern in my life. That competitive spirit and edge can be somewhat helpful for motivation and drive, but it’s destructive at the core. Letting go of my performance in relation to others’ is so freeing. It’s a bit of a letdown finding out I’m not the greatest in the world. I’m happy being me, though. 🙂
“Comparison is the thief of joy.” – C.S. Lewis
Justin,
What a wonderful quote and message. Thank you for your response.
I think we’re on the same page. I, too, have noticed that the more competitive I become, the more destructive I am towards those around me. While I’m still intrinsically motivated and internally driven, I’ve let go of those external messages (as much as I can).
Keep up the great work being you — and happy!
All the best,
Sam
I’ve definitely been guilty of these feelings. Part of it is there has always been a miserable little perfectionist inside of me trying to claw his way out. I’m making some good progress on it, though, and honestly I’m a lot happier than I was when I was trying to be the best.
I was the same way when I was younger. I was buying expensive clothes that made me “stand out”, even though I was the only one that cared what the name on the label said. My wake up call was after college when I was working. I saw a colleague who had a shirt on that I really liked. I asked him where he got it and he told me Sears. It blew my mind. I realized at that point spending more on designer clothes is pointless.
I too barely spend any money on clothes anymore and when I do, it’s stuff on sale or at the outlets.
I’m a very competitive person, so this spoke to me. I know I’ve spent a lot of money to be the “best” too, without much to show for it. Thanks for sharing this with us! Great article!!
I like what you said, “…I’m happy doing my personal best”. I teach a 7th grade speech class and a percentage of each speech grade is taken from an evaluation sheet by all the members of the class. I give a delicious homemade treat to the person who averages the highest from these peer points. It was hard to decide what to do when the same two students consistently score at the top. I got the inspiration from your post to give a treat for anyone who improves their personal percentage. Thanks!
A good one, Sam; and I’m very happy to hear that you’ve foregone the need to be the best. Your article reminded me of a conversation I had with a junior colleague (remember that I’m a university prof). He told me the names of people he want to be like and I remembered he’s been like that since he was a PhD student. ‘Interesting’ – I said – ‘I’ve always wanted to be like Maria Nedeva.’ He stopped in his track and I hope he’ll get some of this competitive streak out of himself. But here is the thing: I don’t work less than people who want to be the best. In fact, I want to be the best as well. It is just that I want to be the best of what I could be! (one day I’ll write an article about why I dislike performance and glorify achievement, publish it on my academic site and tell you about it :)).
Oh yeah, I totally had that same childhood, always chasing number 1. I’ve found that there really is no number one, so might as well enjoy wherever I’m at… http://thebrokeandbeautifullife.com/why-you-should-give-up-on-being-the-best/
This was totally me up until college until I met a woman who did all the same things I did but was infinitely better at ALL of them. Same classes, same clubs, overlapping social circles. After dealing with that inferiority complex, I realized how to be happy for other people’s victories and recognized that my own happiness was worth more to me than my pride.
I too have given up on being the best :). It’s interesting to me how intertwined my finances are with my outlook on life. Now that I’m totally focused on financial independence, I really don’t care what others think of me. I know that I try hard and do good work, but I care much more about pursing projects that are meaningful to me, not checking off boxes on a futile quest to be a “perfect” person. It’s very freeing, isn’t it.
Don’t you know if you ain’t first, you’re last? 🙂
Good post! Just living in America is a blessing. So much opportunity.
Ha Ricky Bobby. That was funny.
Great post Sam. There’s always going to be someone who is richer or better than you at something. If there’s not, there will be next year. It’s hard when we are always comparing ourselves to our co-workers and classmates. I try hard to just try to compare current self to my past self. If I’m getting better, then I’m happy. What could be better than that?