I am not a role model.
I put enough pressure on myself to be perfect, but that perfection is of my own definition. The choices I make professionally, academically, and socially are all of my own calculation, and my accomplishments are the direct results of that ideation. I do not make those decisions with the intention of giving you something to look up to and I do not plan to manipulate myself that way for your benefit. It is my idea of perfection and my adherence to this unique form of perfectionism that governs my actions.
Is this selfish? Of course.
Photo Courtesy Unsplash
For much of our lives, we are expected to live in fairly uniform ways. We obey our parents’ wishes. We go to schools we don’t choose for 13 years. We eat foods we don’t prepare ourselves. We have friends of convenience that we often would not select nor care for in different circumstance. Much is decided for us.
When the time comes to finally start making our own decisions, we look to people we barely know to pass that leash to, instead of gaining an understanding of ourselves and acting in our own interests. We want someone to tell us what success looks like and how to obtain it. We want it to be clear and obvious because someone else has paved the way.
People will choose role models to provide these suggestions. People may even choose their peers, whom they think they understand. They may choose you. They may choose me.
But I am not a role model.
There is danger in occupying that role and danger in selecting people for the position. Consider Disney stars that grow up to perform songs with sexual undertones while they wear revealing clothing. Looking at you, Miley. By saying these people are role models, we shackle them to a superficial, outwardly idealistic characterization that often neglects the humanity of their reality and hinders their opportunities to grow as individuals. It says that these people cannot possibly act human, because that would risk offering a negative impression to the people that adore a measly fraction of their existence.
It is easy to pass the role model responsibility off on people in the public eye, claiming that they understood the implications of their celebrity when they chose to pursue opportunities like acting or signing. But the curse of the role model throne supplies a similar burden to common people, too. Consider the expectations already leveled upon you and you’ll probably notice that they change over the course of a given day. Act one way at work, one way in class, and another way with friends at dinner. Act yet another way on the internet, and another with strangers. The mindset is different for each and your behavior undoubtedly follows, even if the shifts are fairly subtle. Now incorporate the outside pressure to be stagnantly happy despite your circumstances, consistently motivated despite numerous setbacks, and infallibly wholesome despite your infallibility all for the sake of some person who looks up to you.
Hold on. Let me get you a paper bag to breathe into so you don’t pass out from the stress.
We are not the same people all the time, and if we were, we would never make progress. Making plans and having aspirations are crucial parts of becoming who we want to be. Naturally, as a facet of social learning, we look to others to figure those things out. Pegging a person who has some traits we admire, however, to be a personification of all of our ideals is unrealistic and downright cruel.
So, moving forward, do yourself and others this favor: Separate the trait from the person. Appreciate people for being driven, smart, or daring, but do not expect them to be that way forever, especially not according to your definition of the word. Find your own ways of being driven, smart, or daring and let that be your guiding light. Nobody can teach you how to be you. Nobody can force their ideas of perfection onto another person. I’ll stick to mine and you can stick to yours.
Because I am not a role model.