When I was younger, I had a dream of being able to do a cartwheel.
I would watch YouTube videos on my iPod, then run outside and throw myself into the ground, trying to recreate one. I know it seems ridiculous to imagine a little girl trying to do a cartwheel only to continually faceplant, but I wanted so badly to be able to do one.
As I walk, I imagine if I could just randomly do a cartwheel. Not that I would be cartwheeling to class, but the idea I could do it is enough. After watching the 2024 Olympic games, I saw Simone Biles perform and thought, if she can do all that, then I can definitely do a cartwheel. So, alone in my room and as a grown woman, I dove face-first into my hardwood floors.
After that, I realized that sometimes it is okay to give up.
Now, the embarrassing story of my inability to do a cartwheel might not be the best example, considering gravity and my zero coordination have made that task impossible. However, I realized that it is important to sometimes just accept I cannot do certain things.
I am someone who likes to plan and have everything figured out, and if something does not go how I pictured it, I tend to slightly — maybe highly — freak out. I want to do everything. I hyper-fixate on my goal and repeatedly try to achieve it. However, as I got older, I decided to throw out this ambitious part of me and accept failure because sometimes I will just fail.
Last semester, I looked up “best majors for law school,” and Google AI told me that something unique, like art history, looks impressive. Within five minutes, I discovered that art history was my calling, and the source of all my problems was that I had not realized this sooner. So, to make up for this, I emailed my advisor and picked up an art history minor.
I walked into my first art history class so happy and ready to explore my passion. My professor put up a painting of a busy city and asked the class what they thought of it. My classmates raised their hands and talked about the emotions the contrast of the colors evoked and how the painting was a symbol of the monotony of a detached life despite the throng of individuals. After being so enlightened, I walked out of that class and immediately opened NOVO to drop it.
I felt so guilty. I was dropping something that I had naively decided was life’s calling. I hated feeling like I have given up or that the life I had pictured for myself as an art history minor would not be actualized. I was not gifted in the subject like I had thought I would be.
But despite feeling like a failure, I realized one important thing about intelligence. I am not stupid because I do not like a certain major or minor, but I would be stupid for putting myself through it. I can realize the confines of my intelligence, and I know when something is not for me.
I have been told all my life to never give up. However, I give up all the time. I cannot do a cartwheel, and I cannot pontificate about the different artistic choices in a painting. It is okay to give up and in fact, I think you should give up more and more. You cannot try new things if you are unwilling to quit. Try to take a hard class or play an interhall sport you have never done before, and if you do not like it, then drop it.
Next semester, I am going to take physics even though I am a political science major. If I do not like it, I am not gonna force myself to suffer through it, but maybe I will really enjoy it.
I have realized failure is a good sign because it means you are willing to step out of your comfort zone and put yourself out there. Every time I fail, I do not think of it as a reflection of myself, but I am proud of myself for doing something despite the fear it might not turn out well. Everyone should continue to fail. Do not listen to the “never give up” propaganda.
Give up. It means you have more time to explore your other interests and find what is best for you.
