...and now I have to keep sprinting to keep up. It's like no matter how far I go, the scoreboard is there to keep reminding me that I'm behind everyone else.

And the cruelest part is, on some days, I wish I'd never stepped onto the track at all.

(end of 🧵)

Here's the cold truth: I feel like an impostor in this uniform. There are at least thirty-thousand aspirants for my career in the country; for them, this is the finish line they've been chasing all their lives. But for me, it's just the track I happened to stumble onto…

it's always that my 100% ends up being someone's 20% only.

So I learn quite a coping mechanism for this: I smile, nod, and keep my frustrations to myself, because nothing's more confusing to a dreamer than someone who insultingly half-assed their dream then calls themselves a dumbo.

The thing is, I never planned on being here (my "when I grow up" story was set on the complete opposite end of the career spectrum, that is), or even get this far at all. Not that it's the wrong career choice (this will probably bite me in the ass someday), but...

I want to think this feeling is probably just guilt. That choking, gnawing feeling knowing my peers are people who make genius look effortless because this is their dream. They've spent years chasing this; while I only learned the rules halfway through and have been bluffing ever since.

At first I'll get the pity comments. Cue the "but you're also smart!" and "grades are just numbers!" They say this again and again like a preacher hyping a crowd--until our exam scores come out, and suddenly, people ask what's my surname again.

Hello YC!!! 🫶

IT'S BEEN A MONTH I AM SO BUSY