I smile, nodding. My former mentor was a soft-spoken man. Throughout my two years of being his mentee, I have only seen him once in a formal mentor-mentee session. Our meetings were so scarce, he did not even remember me as his mentee. He didn't know what I ranked in class, my interests, nothing.
I remember an incident at last year's annual dinner. I had received an award for best student for my year. While sending off the lecturers to the carpark, my mentor was talking about how he was going to embark on a trip to China for a paleontology exhibition of some sort. I jokingly asked to go with him, and he asked "Why should I bring you?" I laughed and replied that he was my mentor. He looked surprised at first, and then he laughed. "Oh, awak mentee saya? Awak dapat anugerah kan tadi? Pandai jugak mentee saya ni rupanya." I smiled. That was the first time I felt acknowledged by my mentor.
Fast forward. I smiled nervously as I continued to stare at my poster, hoping that words would magically pop-up in my head prior to my presentation. My mentor was not done introducing me to his student, who was an Economics major.
"She's doing Geology. And she is one of our candidates for First Class Honours."
That statement made me turn around.
"She is our best student. The top of her class. The very top of her class, as of now, I guess."
I fell silent. Just a year ago, he knew nothing (or showed no interest) of my academic achievements. He beamed like a proud father, showing off his child. I was touched by the gesture. Words failed me, all I could do was smile back at the mentor I did not meet with when I had him as my mentor.
*
Well, if any of you read German or have translated the above title beforehand, you would know that "meine Ängste" translates to "my fears". To be honest, at the moment - I'm having bouts of crippling fear that I'm won't be able to live up to the expectations of those who believe me the most.
The fear comes and goes. But when it comes, it swings to my chest like a sledge-hammer. It usually comes about when I sit alone in my room with the music down and corridors silent. That's when the voice at the back of my mind grows ever louder.
The voice replays all the hopes of those who know me, and it tells me that I will never ever make them come true. The voice viciously tells me that I will fall. I will fail. I will never make it. The voice has, over time, convinced me that the person that everyone else views me as is not the same person that I see in the mirror every single day.
People view me as smart, confident and outspoken. They have great plans in mind for me and my future. To them, I could achieve anything that I set my mind to do. At times, I believe them. I have this burning feeling deep inside that I can do the things that they believe me to do.
But the fear of failure and disappointment doesn't leave me. It follows me like a shadow. It is always there.
"Sometimes you have to die a little on the inside first in order to be reborn; and rise again as a stronger, smarter version of yourself."
Maybe this is just me. Slowly dying.
Some people may not understand how I could feel this bad about myself when I have achieved so much; so much more than what I initially thought I would. I don't expect anyone to understand it. I couldn't understand it either. I wish I did. Then maybe I could turn it around.
I could turn it around.
I just need to believe in myself more.
But I don't see how.
Here's hoping for bright, sun-shiny days ahead. Exam weeks are in full swing. Don't worry about me. Whether I take on Bruce Banner or The Hulk in the upcoming days, it wouldn't matter - I know I'm going to kick serious ass both ways. I'm better than my fears. The only thing to fear, is fear itself.
Sorry for the word vomit. Auf wiedersehen!
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