2023-01258-MN-0

PARUNGAO, Valerie Anne G.

GEED 005 BS PSY 1-3
14 January 2024
How to Train an All-Devouring Narwhal

One sunny morning of March 2020, I remembered my heart beating faster and
my hands sweating profusely as I thought about my academic standing. At that time, I
knew to myself that I didn't perform as well as what I did in the last quarter, which made
me visualize school as a dreadful horror house. With this feeling in mind, imagine my
happiness when our adviser told us to go home as classes were suspended for a week.
"Finally, my worries are postponed", I thought to myself. The week turned to weeks, and
weeks turned to months. And suddenly, the happiness I once felt washed away.
It was the first day of online classes, in October of 2020. I remembered feeling
the same feeling I had before the suspension of classes, that same feeling of dread and
anxiety. I didn't know why I felt that way because those people were the same people I
was with years ago. Maybe it was the way I initially failed some people close to me
before this. Maybe it was the camera that can make everyone look at my face with their
devices. Maybe it was the teacher those seniors warned us about. I didn't know, for all
of them were familiar faces. Why was it that I trembled so much with the thought of
expressing myself through class participation? Why was it that I felt so helpless while
my camera was turned on?
What was wrong with me?
I didn't know that the initial feeling of anxiousness I once had before the
lockdown would be nothing but a fleeting moment—a moment that would surely wipe
away once I passed Grade 9 and move on to the next step. I didn't know that it was a
feeling much bigger than myself, or maybe I already knew, but continued to discard
them. It was a feeling the size of a narwhal. Such giant, cute things, those narwhals. But
this was far from cute—it's an all-devouring narwhal, swallowing the giddiness I once
had in learning and replacing it with fear. Fear of stuttering. Fear of making a fool of
myself. Fear of saying things outside of the topic. Fear of failing the people who
expected better of me.
“Was I really the smart kid my classmates expected me to be?” “Was I really that
same person everyone rooted for to replace our class valedictorian?” “Was I really
smart enough to begin with? Was I smart?” These were the questions that ran through
my head. Questions that questioned my worth, questioned my credibility, and
questioned my persona. Now, I deem these questions utterly useless, as they only
break me and my spirit. But in those times, those questions were the only things that
kept me on the ground. Those were some things I could cling on, no matter how toxic
those sounded.
2023-01258-MN-0
PARUNGAO, Valerie Anne G.
GEED 005 BS PSY 1-3
14 January 2024

School should be fun. Learning should be fun. It used to be fun. The fire on every
child’s eyes whenever he or she discovers something new is a sight to behold. But
when did the fun burn out of a person whose life had been dedicated to the discovery of
knowledge? What went wrong with that person?
The answer lies within the lines etched in this paper. Expectations. As I thought
about this word, a quote from Ryan Reynolds came into light. “When you have
expectations, you are setting yourself up for disappointment.” When people expect you
2023-01258-MN-0
PARUNGAO, Valerie Anne G.
GEED 005 BS PSY 1-3
14 January 2024

to do great things, you cannot help but to also set yourself up for the expectation other
people placed on you. You tend to think that there must be something special about
you, which gives people the reason to expect that of you. And when you fail, you can't
help but feel disappointed as you didn't meet that expectation. It was like driving a car,
where all of the good miles you traveled will be deemed useless by one single wrong
turn.
It is hard not to hear people anticipating your winnings in life, as that's what they
perceived in you. It is only a matter of time where we manage those expectations by
minimizing them in our heads. This is a way for us to not dwell on the things we could've
improved when it's already done, and not stay on controlling things we actually cannot
control. It's only a matter of time that we should be kinder to ourselves and our mental
health. In that way, we could carry ourselves with less worries in our head, and more
confidence in our abilities.
Fast forward to 2022, I am thankful that, well, I didn't fully overcome the struggle
of overthinking and being self-conscious, but I managed to minimize the voices that
question my abilities as an academic-achiever. I realize that being too hard on myself
doesn't help me in improving myself, but rather, it lets me and my spirit down even
more. For now, with baby steps, I could stretch my hands at the thought of carrying
myself with pride—no negative thoughts blocking my path to success. (853 words)