After months of preparation, I finally sat my latest exam last week and I am glad to be coming up for air.
Despite being a seasoned exam taker, I still have a significant amount of anxiety around exams. I spent most of my childhood being the child who was lauded for her academic achievements. I still remember the pride in my Father’s voice as he recounted the story of my success at the National Common Entrance examination to anyone who would listen. I had the third-highest score in my school and the two people who scored higher than I did were a class ahead of me. I subsequently gained admission to my secondary school of choice and cemented my position as golden child. As a result, I identify strongly as a girl who excels in her academics.
The first real failure that knocked me for six happened in my third year of medical school. I sat an exam that was to determine my progression into the clinical component of my medical education and I failed. I failed so badly that I was asked to repeat the year. I was so ashamed that I almost didn’t go home because how was I going to face my parents and tell them I had failed.
The months that followed were probably the lowest of my life. I was consumed by shame and decided I would not be repeating the year, opting for a change of course instead. This did nothing to erase the shame of course, and I spent a year fixating on the fact that I was taking classes with people three years younger than I was. I eventually left the school and moved to a whole new country where learning was easier and I was able to make the grades expected of me.
identity - the fact of being who or what a person or thing is.
As humans, our identity is largely shaped by how we see and describe ourselves, and how we want other people to see us. We build our identities over time, through different life experiences. Amplifying the things that make us look good and eliminating (or at least trying to) the things that do not. When we are finally satisfied with our identity we tend to project it, both consciously and unconsciously. We also create a hierarchy of sorts based on our identity.
For example, when a big part of your identity is tied to being a person who always passes exams, you’re more likely to study hard because you believe that adequate preparation will get you your desired outcome. As a result, you might also believe yourself to be better than the people who do not pass their exams because you might assume that they did not prepare as well as they should have. So if you do not pass, for one reason or the other, it might feel like a major disruption to your sense of self.
I am not sure that I have shed my efiko identity completely, but over the years, I have started to let go of it a bit more. One of the things that I think has helped is having many identities and not holding on to any of them too tightly. Sometimes failing at one thing is made more bearable by succeeding at something else.
While having a sense of identity is important for navigating the human experience, it can become problematic when you tie your self-worth to an identity. This doesn’t always allow for the flexibility that is also important for navigating life and can cause us to get stuck. Holding on to a certain idea of ourselves and how we want to be perceived can sometimes keep us from making certain decisions or taking certain actions that might actually serve us better.
For example, if your identity is tied to your job, what happens if that job gets terminated? Or maybe your chosen identity is wife/husband, what happens when your partner starts mistreating you or decides they’re no longer interested in being married? Or you could be a doting mother whose life revolves around her children, and now they’ve come of age and left home. What next?
After failing my driving test for the second time a couple of weeks ago, I left the test centre telling myself I would not be taking the test again, so this is me dragging myself, but I thought I’d share, just in case someone else needed dragging :)
This week I read
The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris. I first picked up this book a couple of years ago because I liked the cover and I like to support black women writers. However, something about it just wasn’t clicking and so I abandoned it. I only picked it up again because my new book club had selected it and I wanted to be able to weigh in.
I have to say I was quite disappointed by the book. First, it felt very overwritten. The writing was overly descriptive, with tangents that added nothing to the story. The book started off slow and remained that way, with most of the plot taking place in the last few chapters. The characters were not very likeable, there were a number of plot holes and the whole thing just felt like a big No.
However, I did hear that it is being adapted for the big screen so maybe it is truly a great work and I’m just talking rubbish. Still, would not recommend.
This week I listened to
Episode #157 of The Knowledge Podcast. On this episode, Shane and his guest (who is an acclaimed executive coach) talked about many things from adult development theory to different types of listening and how our use of language can shape how we experience life and as usual, it was a very enlightening conversation. My favourite part was her response to the question - What does success mean to you?
I just want to look back on my life and know that my presence mattered to somebody else and not because I had great ideas, not because I was so smart, but that in my presence another person could be more fully themselves.
Might be my favourite one yet.
It’s a Bank Holiday weekend here and we have been blessed with good-ish weather so I am in good spirits. I’m also glad to be writing again and I would like to thank the people who checked in when they discovered I’d been missing from their inbox.
Here’s wishing you a week of realising your hold on the parts of your identity that need releasing.
Chioma.
Thoroughly enjoyed this one - maybe because I related to it a little too well. Having spent most of my primary school years skipping classes because I was ‘too good’ so they moved me up to a higher class to ‘catch up with my intellect.’ Then acing common entrance in primary 5 but my mum insisting I had to finish primary school so she didn’t let me go to secondary school. Imagine my shock at having to ‘resit’ an exam in Medical School - oh the shame 😭