Growing up, I wasn’t allowed to participate in any extracurricular activities like so many of my classmates. I remember being asked if I wanted to be part of the Student Council and my mom said no, because it was a form of government and the bible says that man should not judge their fellow man. As much as I often longed to be part of something like the Yearbook Club, Softball, Basketball, Football, Track or other sports team, Band, or the Cheerleading Squad, I knew the answer would be the same, “NO!”. (My parents didn’t approve of me forming friendships with people outside of the church. And they expected me to spend my free time helping with household chores, yard work or devotion to “Jehovah” – reading the Bible, sitting in church for hours at a time or going from door-to-door spreading the “truth”.) I got good grades, but was never at the top of my class.
As a result, I never developed any athletic skills or knowledge about sports.
If you were to ask my parents, they would say that they tried to get me interested in sports, but I didn’t show any interest. Their idea of exposing me to sports was standing in the front or back yard, having my father throw a ball at me and tell me to put my hands up and catch. This method, resulted in my injury and fear of participating in any sports.
My father wasn’t one of those Dads who sat around with all of his buddies, drinking beer, eating snacks and BBQ-ing and watching the game.
He wasn’t one of those men who looked forward to football or baseball season or pledged his loyalty to a particular team.
I remember him and my mother bad mouthing other men in the congregation who were football fanatics.
He wasn’t one of those Dads who was a die hard hunter or fisherman.
Looking back, he really didn’t have any hobbies or that he regularly enjoyed.
Interests, yes. But nothing that he was absolutely passionate about.
I don’t believe he was always the boring person depicted above. From stories of his life before becoming a father, he had traveled and spent weeks in Europe, even spent weeks in Mexico surfing and being a beach bum. He even went skydiving. He had his pilots license and spent lots of time flying in the plane my grandfather owned. He owned a motorcycle and loved to ride. He loved classic cars and even owned a ’71 Corvette that he had until I was 5. Him and my mother used to camp often, spend time on lakes jet skiing. He owned and operated two successful businesses when I was born. I am not sure what happened to him. The only dream my mother had was to simply be a wife and mother. (and to be a better at it than her own mother.) After over a decade of struggling with infertility, they finally became parents, when they adopted me at 9 1/2 months from Seoul, South Korea. From the time I officially became their child until I was almost 5, I think all of my fathers hobbies, interests, and toys were stripped away from him. Everything was sold. The house in the Sacramento area, his motorcycle, his ‘Vette and even is 2 businesses. We moved to the tourist town that they had always loved to camp at, Fort Bragg, CA. My Dad went to work for someone else, which within 5 years resulted in his being terminated and then him having to find a new career in his early 40’s. Somewhere along the way, I believe he felt like his dignity, dreams and pride were completely stripped from him.
I don’t remember having a happy father. He was always harsh, negative, condescending and unhappy. He was bitter and unhappy. I’ve often wondered if he was bi-polar. I have very few good memories that involve him. He always expected a lot out of me and in the end, it never seemed to be good enough.
I think of all the people I’ve encountered in my lifetime. Some have a story of how they discovered a talent they possess that is rare. Some have a story of how years of participating in a certain sport helped them develop extraordinary skills. Some have stories of injuries they sustained playing sports or performing some dare devil act to show off in front of their siblings, cousins, neighbors or friends from schools. Some have pictures to go with stories of trips they traveled to for tournaments or class trips. Some have pictures of them at a High School Football game, school dance, band concert, on a hunting trip with their first kill with their father, or them with their calf at the 4-H sale. Some have a box full of trophies or awards up in their parents attic that symbolize something they excelled at as a child. I have none. As an adult, I realize that NONE of that really matters.
But because I was not exposed to what most kids were, I never was able to find anything that I felt passionate about. I never found something I could OWN as my own trademark. I left home at 15 and I worked and partied on my down-time. I had my first child at 18. I grew up to be an adult – a boring adult. I didn’t have anything hobbies, cool stories from my childhood, or anything I was proud of ….. Not even 1 cool story of anything exceptional.
My parents taught me that being competitive was not a desirable or acceptable trait. I do feel that being competitive CAN get out of hand. I’ve seen people who will resort to unethical and dishonest behavior or acts in order to be #1 or get to the top. I’ve seen people who will hurt others in order to get to the top. I’ve seen people who are ugly, unkind and unable to be happy for others who have excelled. I’ve seen people who are so focused on winning in one area that they neglect things that are of more importance.
That is the WORST CASE scenario.
My husband is EXTREMELY competitive. At times I think that it is a little over the top. But I can see now, that wanting to be the best gives you something to strive for and pushes you to do your best.
I used to always say that I was not competitive. Well of course not! What did I have to compete for – Being the best average person? I certainly won! My mom used to tell me, “Just do your best Min.” That’s great. I learned how to do just enough to get by and be a little better than average. No one ever expected anything GRAND out of me. I lived such a sheltered, predictable, boring life, from the time I was a child, that there was nothing I could do that set me apart from others. I was simply to do as I was told and not F**K up. The problem was that I didn’t want to be who I was expected or told to be. But I was never given much space to allow me to figure out who I really was.
By the time I left home at 15, and had the freedom to try to find and create myself, I felt like I had to catch up to everyone else my age who had been given the freedom and independence to be themselves. Naturally I made lots of bad decisions, which resulted in being told I was a disappointment to my parents. I felt like a failure. No one told me that it was okay to make mistakes. No one told me that this was part of life. No one told me that you didn’t’ have to get it right in the first shot. No one told me that there wasn’t a certain age that you had to have figured out what your “gift” or “purpose” was. No one told me that things would get better. No one told me that it was never too late to “become someone”. and that I could be someone. No one ever told me that my gift didn’t have to be something that was easily identifiable or something that would earn you a trophy or award.
I guess because my Dad’s dreams were crushed once I came along, he never taught me to dream. I guess because my Mom’s only dream was to be a wife & mom, that was all she ever taught me – was how to excel at both of those duties. Because they didn’t think the world would keep going on because their religious beliefs actually had them believe this world would be destroyed before I was an adult, they never saw the need to dream big.
I never believed what they shoved down my throat or tried to pound into my head. All of their life and choices were based around their religion. For me, it is NOT. I was never was taught how to set goals that were not based on religious views or events.
Luckily, I found someone who believed in me and gave me goals to work towards, my coach Becky. Becoming a Coach and part of Team Beachbody, helped me become confident. As I crushed each goal, I felt like less of a failure. I realized that I did have a competitive side, a healthy competitive spirit, not one that makes me crazy and out of control. To wake up today and see that I ended the year, crushing THREE of my major goals: firing my boss, so I could work from home and set my own hours which allows me to be with my family more, achieving my 5 Star Diamond Goal and becoming a 2013 Elite Coach and to top it off, being ranked at 51 out of the 139,972 coaches in the organization … well, the way it makes me feel is just indescribable. I don’t even know who is ranked at 50 or 52, nor do I care, because I wasn’t trying to beat anyone. I was only competing with myself. I know that I did what I was taught by my mother, “Do my best!” and that really is all that matters, but for the first time in my life I am in the top 100 of something, something that really makes a difference. Coming from someone who has never been good at anything, to me this is a major milestone in my life.
When it comes down to it though, I am just truly thankful that I was given the opportunity to be part of an organization that gives you goals to reach for, recognition to encourage, motivate and push you to do better, has helped me find the competitive side of myelf, prove that I am not a failure, find my gift and purpose in life, somewhere I feel that I belong, a way to sharpen my skills and develop new ones and has helped fill the void in my life and justify my own existence in life!
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I want to close by sharing a post from Cliff Wilson’s blog, that I came across – Competition is a good thing, if used to properly as fuel to be better than you were yesterday and crush your goals:
My Experience
Tough Love
Losing is okay