I should probably stop.

They say, be graceful, be presentable, then call you fake.
They say, be smart, study hard, then claim grades don’t matter.
They say, be creative, learn your passion, then tell you the world isn’t made for dreams.

Again and again, they lie—not to me, but to the world itself. Yet, every time, I listen.

They said I was gifted. I wasn’t. 
In fact, that might have been the cruelest lie of all.

When you’re weak and keep trying, they praise you, call you brave. But once they label you gifted, none of it matters anymore. They watch you struggle and sigh at every failure.

Preschool. It was my first experience at a competitive event. Sports day, kids running everywhere, colors flying, prizes, medals. They were there to take pictures when I won first prize at running, yet when it was over, they said sports wasn’t for me.

That’s okay. Maybe I’ll try something else.
So, I stopped.

Kindergarten. I was top of the class at mental arithmetic. I solved problems meant for older kids. They signed me up for a national Olympiad where I was facing competitors way older than me. As expected, no one from my class made it. Yet, the only disappointment? Me.

That’s okay. Maybe it’s not for me.
So, I stopped.

1st grade. I was in art class. I don’t recall my drawings, maybe I wasn’t great, but I wasn’t bad. People seeing my sketches today say, that I have talent. Yet, back then, I was told it wasn’t for me. They said, it was a waste, took me out of art class.

That’s okay. Maybe I’m not artistic.
So, I stopped.

2nd grade. TalentHunt. They said it was for those who could do what others couldn’t, that I wasn’t who they were looking for. But I applied anyway. I worked hard. I became the youngest A+ winner of the year. At first, I came back, all excited, jumping to show my prizes but somehow once I had them, it became something anyone could do, somehow that same TalentHunt became “easy” and “nothing impressive”.

That’s okay. Maybe I exaggerated.
So, I stopped.

5th grade. Robotics. I’d been doing it for z couple of years and had earned multiple national awards. Again, gifted—they said, a lie. My sister won an international award that year. I was happy for her, truly. But somehow, that made me the disappointment.

That’s okay. Maybe robotics isn’t for me either.
So, I stopped.

6th grade, I attended classes with PhD professors. They still show my final project to their colleagues, but since it wasn’t competitive, it wasn’t impressive. 7th grade, I liked writing and sculpting, they said “Nice” but never read a single blog, never praised a mud work. 8th grade, I studied hard, to place in top 10 of my class, I got a seat for the scholarship exam with only space for 25% of all students, but none of that mattered, cause grades alone can’t do anything, no one will see your result from 8th grade in 10 years time, yet they mattered so much when my grades weren’t good.

I could go on. Year after year, the pattern repeated.
I try. I struggle. I win. They lose interest. I’m back to square one.
and then it looped back again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again again and again and again and again and again and again.

You know, maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m not cut out for anything. Maybe I’m just wasting time trying for nothing. They’ve shown me the same result over and over again. Maybe, it’s time to just accept it. Maybe it’s time to finally say it.

“I give up”

…

… …

“Don’t” ”Why are you like this?” ”Fallen prodigy” ”You just don’t try” ”You could do so much if you just tried” ”Do what makes you feel good” ”Do it from passion, for the love of doing it” ”You have to do something” ”You can’t give up now” ”You were so great, what happened?” ”You know we all believe in you” “You can do a lot, you know” “Don’t just stop” “Do something” “Come on” “Are you crazy?” “You’re so smart, you can do anything if you put your mind to it” “Why aren’t you even trying?” “Why did you just stop?” “What happened?” “When are you gonna stop this nonsense and go back?” “You can just try them for fun in your free time you know” “Nobody is pressuring you, just do what you want, that’s all we ask” “We always supported you in all your projects” “We were always there, just come back” “You could be like XYZ if you just tried” “Are you being serious?” “I have no idea what’s gotten into you”
 

And suddenly, they remember. Suddenly, I used to be the smart one. The bright one. The one who worked hard.

lies, it’s all lies, the same ones they’ve told me way too many times.

You lie once, maybe it’s funny. Twice, we can forgive it. But when the same lies are repeated again and again, it’s not just a white lie anymore; It’s manipulation. And the beauty of this manipulation depends on who’s telling it. That’s what determines how many times it can be used.

So, I try again.
The same loop.
All over again.

And again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again...
 

In the end, it’s all gonna be the same. It always was. Always will be.

The lies go on.
The world keeps moving.
And maybe, just maybe, I should stop.
But I probably won’t.

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Disclaimer: This is not intended to spread hate towards any specific individual. It’s a personal reflection on the societal pressures I’ve faced, growing up in a competitive environment. It’s simply a piece I wrote on a whim, that leaves space for thought. Thank you for reading.